


Dulcedo

by Dkpetersen26



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Past Relationship(s), shortish chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-19 01:01:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 90
Words: 62,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4726853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dkpetersen26/pseuds/Dkpetersen26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate universe where the Greyjoys do not rebel after Robert's Rebellion. The Lannisters have rebelled and been defeated, but now a secret that has been hidden for twenty years tears a family apart and an old threat with a new flavour emerges in the east.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Promise me

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for all of the ASOIAF books

"Promise me, Ned."

Choking back tears, Lord Eddard Stark looked at his sister lying on a bed of blood. "I...I promise, Lya." Smiling, Lyanna Stark closed her eyes for the final time. For Ned, time seemed to stand still, the only sound he could hear was a child crying in his arms.

Ned sat up in his bed, shaking, his forehead clammy with sweat. A dream, it was a dream. The dream that had plagued him since he'd been told that Robert Baratheon was coming to the North, Ned had felt overjoyed when Catelyn had told him the news but now he dreaded the arrival of his childhood friend. The source of his worry was not the fact that Robert was now King, or that he was probably headed to Winterfell to make Ned the Hand of the King, following Jon Arryn's death but because it meant that Ned would have to call Jon Snow back from the Wall.

Jon had gone to join the Night's Watch some years prior and had seen his fair share of action, he'd been ranging beyond the Wall with Qhorin Halfhand, gone undercover among the Wildlings, climbed the Wall with them, then returned to the Watch where he'd taken command of the remaining men and fought off a full-scale attack, which had earned him a great deal of respect and the position of Lord Commander when Jeor Mormont had died. Ned's heart swelled with pride when he thought about the man he had raised and all he had done in spite of the difficulties that came with being a bastard.

Ned was brought out of his reverie by Maester Luwin, who entered the room with a faint clinking emanating from his Maester's chain. "Lord Stark, there is a raven for you from Highgarden."  
Highgarden? Why would Mace Tyrell want to write to him? "Thank you, Maester. Where is Catelyn?" Ned replied. "Lady Stark is breaking her fast with your children in the Hall, my lord." Luwin replied. Ned thanked him and sent him on his way, he quickly got dressed and headed to where his family sat.

"Arya!" Sansa's voice rang through the hall, "What is going on now?" Ned was tired of his daughter's constant bickering, it was time for Sansa to get married, she would leave for Pyke soon, Ned had wanted to get a match for her, maybe to a Southron house, Robin Arryn had crossed his mind briefly but when Theon Greyjoy had proposed Ned had seen the advantage in the match and approved. "Arya spilt her drink, father, nothing serious." Robb replied. The heir to Winterfell was sat between his mother and youngest brother. "Is everything alright, my love? I thought it best to let you sleep." Catelyn looked resplendent in the Tully colours, red and blue with a grey scarf around her neck. "There is a letter from Highgarden," Ned replied, passing the letter to his wife, who took it with a frown. Breaking the seal, she read the letter with an eyebrow raised, "Perhaps we should discuss this alone, my love. Is every body finished?" The children nodded, "Good, go about your duties." "And don't forget that the king may be here ahead of schedule so be ready." Ned cut in. "Yes father." The children left the hall in a rush. Ned turned back to his wife, "What did it say?" "Lord Tyrell proposes a betrothal between Robb and his daughter Margaery." It seemed a good match, they were of an age and Margaery was said to be a beauty. "Why not? This is one of the best possible matches in the Seven Kingdoms. Robb needs a bride and heirs." Ned thought aloud. "I had the same thought my love. Margaery would also be a great help to Robb in the running of the North, she has a keen mind for politics. I personally think that this is an opportunity we can't pass up" Catelyn responded, "If there is no problem we should send a reply to Lord Tyrell accepting the betrothal immediately." Ned turned on his heel and walked briskly to his solar. This reeked of Olenna Tyrell, Mace was a bumbling fool but his mother was another matter entirely.

Having written his reply to Lord Tyrell, he was headed to the rookery when a servant rushed to him and informed him that not only had the King's banners been spotted mere miles from Winterfell but there were reports of a lone rider in black coming down the kingsroad not much further north. "Inform my wife and children and have them assemble in the courtyard, send Jory with an escort south to meet the king."

Nearly half an hour later, the king's party arrived at Winterfell and Lord Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden and Lord Paramount of the North, stood in the courtyard to receive him with his family.


	2. Not a soul to hear

Tyrion Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West and Shield of Lannisport, made his way through the bowels of his keep escorted by his captain of the guard. Tyrion was in a particularly black mood today, having just returned from a dispute that frankly shouldn't have required any intervention if it weren't for Sybell Spicer's constant bitching, eventually he'd lost his patience and told her to fuck off before he decided to give her to his guards.

And now, to top it all off, he had returned to Casterly Rock only to be told that Joffrey had been attacking servants again. Tyron had devised a punishment that would be equal parts humiliating and harmless and was on his way to give the order. Entering the dungeons he found Cersei Lannister and Joffrey Hill waiting for him, "Here to give me a slap, Imp?" The bastard never knew when to keep his mouth shut, Tyrion's already considerable irritation gave way to pure rage and hatred and it radiated off of him in such a way that it was almost tangible to anyone else, anyone except Joffrey perhaps, even Cersei's defiance guttered out. "Actually, dearest nephew, I was going to tell you that I had a new chamber made specifically for you and I would be honored if I could present it to you." Tyrion said in his sweetest voice, the voice that made Cersei pale whenever he used it in her presence.

Joffrey almost leapt out of his chair, falling for his trap as he knew he would. "Excellent!" He exclaimed, turning to the captain of his guard, "Bronn, please escort my nephew to his new chamber and give him that special drink I asked you to have made."  
He eyed Cersei warily, I warned him, he thought, I told him what would happen and he didn't listen. Tyrion turned and walked out of the cells, Joffrey was beyond saving but Myrcella and Tommen deserved better, when he next visited King's Landing he would ask Robert to legitimize them under the Lannister name. In truth, it had been his fault that they were in these conditions, he had exposed House Lannister to the realm and cleansed it.

It had started with Tyrion walking in the halls of the castle when he had noticed a familiar shape in the darkness, moving away from his father's chambers, when he moved closer he realized with a jolt that it was Shae, a whore he had met in the Riverlands, even more shocking had been the purse in her hands and the fact that she was naked as her name day, he had followed her back to her chambers where he had confronted her and in a fit of rage at the truth, killed her with a single blow to her head. He had then confronted his father about Tysha.

"What happened to her?" "The whore?" Tywin had replied, "TYSHA! HER NAME WAS TYSHA, DAMN YOU!" "Tywin had simply replied "Wherever whores go." Tyrion had snapped at that point. "You made my life a living hell for being a dwarf and for killing your wife! Then you lecture me about taking whores to bed when you were doing the same things I did." 

"I will destroy you for this, I will burn your legacy to ashes and piss on them." Tyrion vowed, " I swear by the Old Gods and the New." Tywin remained impassive, "And how do you expect to do that?" The realization hit Tyrion like a slap, and he started giggling hysterically, "You never knew? After all this time? The two you placed the most hope in will destroy you, father. And I will be there to light the fuse." "Knew what?" Tywin demanded, but Tyrion was already gone, cackling all the way.

A few days later, Tyrion had appeared before Robert and the Small Council, laying the evidence that Cersei's children were not Robert's but Jaime's at their disposal as well as pledging his own service to Robert. When Jon Arryn had asked him what he wanted in return, Tyrion had simply responded "What is mine by right." Robert had ordered Jaime and Cersei executed, in retaliation Lord Tywin called his banners in revolt, though Tyrion had choked on his wine when heard of that, unable to comprehend his father's thinking.

The resulting conflict had lasted a little over six months, Houses Baratheon, Stark and Arryn had called their banners against the Westerlands, with Tyrion on their side they had smashed the Lannister armies though with heavy casualties and for the first time since the Dance Of the Dragons, a divided Kingsguard, Ser Meryn Trant, Boros Blount, Preston Greenfield and the Kingslayer had joined Lord Tywin while Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Arys Oakheart and Ser Mandon Moore stayed loyal to Robert. Tyron was left with a horrific scar after being carried off the battlefield with a facial wound.

For his services and because Tywin and Jaime had both fallen at Casterly Rock, Tyrion had been given his father's titles and custody of Cersei's children. Jon Arryn had even offered to name Tyrion his successor as the Hand of the Kingthough Tyrion had declined mainly so that he could consolidate his power in the west but also because he was afraid for Myrcella, Joffrey had been looking at her in a way that made Tyrion's hair stand on end. He had already warned Joffrey and Cersei that he would not tolerate any escape attempt or unauthorized correspondence, Joffrey had broken that rule before the viscous little shit had even been put in the cells. When he tried to rape a serving girl, Tyrion had put his foot down and threatened to put him in a oubliette, the threat had worked better that he could have hoped for but it seemed that Joffrey had been building up his courage. 

Tyrion was left alone with his sister,and both stared daggers at each other, "What are you up to?" asked Cersei in her usual acid tone, "I'm taking Tommen and Myrcella to King's Landing, I want to ask Robert to legitimize them, Tommen will be my heir and I will find Myrcella a good husband." "WHAT?" Cersei screeched, "YOU WANT TO TAKE MY SON AWAY AND WHORE MY DAUGHTER OFF TO SOME LORD LIKE I WAS?! WHAT ABOUT JOFFREY, HE IS OLDER AND WISER AN-" Tyrion absorbed the abuse with a stone face before interrupting, " And as mad as Aerys and Maegor and Aegon the Unworthy combined, I want nothing to do with women anymore but I still require an heir, Tommen is young enough that he can learn quickly and become a good lord. Joffrey would tear the world apart if he could and laugh about it, sound familiar? As to Myrcella I give you my word that I will not marry her to a man she does not want." Cersei sat back in her chair, defeated.


	3. Night Gathers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will be the start of a trend of MASSIVE canon divergence. Jon finds a gift for his siblings

Jon Snow, the 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, was sat in his solar reading the reports from the various Rangers and stewards at Castle Black. The Wall was mess after the last wildling attack and Jon had sent pleas for help to the Northern Lords, though he suspected that the wildling wargs were using hawks to bring the ravens down. Jon himself had a particularly nasty history with hawks, one had almost torn his face off beyond the Wall when he'd infiltrated the wildling camps, pretending to desert. He still felt ashamed at what he'd done to succeed in that mission, he'd killed Qhorin Halfhand, lain with a wildling and abandoned her. Her face flashed into his mind at the most irritating times, mainly during rangings, and had fed his guilt tenfold, and now he was Lord Commander, a position he'd only dreamt of when he came to the Wall... and it was hell. He couldn't spend time with his friends, nor protect them either, he received constant complaints about his sympathy for the wildlings, he'd been named turncloak, traitor and other less savory names since his election.

A knock at his door snapped him back to reality, it was Maester Samwell whom he had known since he came to the Wall, newly returned from the Citadel to replace Aemon Targaryen after his death at the age of 105 years old. "A raven for you, my lord." Sam held out a roll of parchment sealed with grey wax, Jon's heart soared, he hadn't heard from his family in years, he'd almost forgotten what his brothers looked like. He took the parchment and broke the dirwolf seal, reading the letter with an eyebrow raised, "Lord Stark has summoned me to Winterfell to meet with the king." He asked Sam to bring Bowen March, Thoren Smallwood and Othell Yarwyck. They quickly agreed that it was a good opportunity to gain the support of the crown and that Jon would leave on the morrow.

Having ridden his horse through the gates and onto the kingsroad, he'd decided to take a slow pace south, he had been told that the king was still some time away from Winterfell, he had plenty of time. He stopped at side of the road to feed his horse and take a swig of mulled wine from his skin. That night he made camp in the trees and was instantly alerted to something being wrong, unsheathing Longclaw, the sword that Jeor Mormont had gifted him for saving his life. He trekked some distance into the forest and heard whimpering. He followed the sound and gasped at what he saw, the largest wolf he had ever seen lay on it's side, making small noises and trying to move. As he drew closer he realized that the wolf wasn't moving anymore. She was pregnant, Jon realized. Acting on instinct, he drew his dagger and slit her stomach open. Inside were six little cubs, it was at that moment when Jon realized exactly how large the wolf was, it would put any of Ramsay Snow's dogs to shame. A direwolf? Jon had heard the stories but none had been seen south of the Wall in centuries, but it was also the pups' gender that interested him. By the gods, there are six pups, two female, four male. One for each Stark, and me. He thought. One was albino, white as snow with red eyes. Jon chose that one, it only seemed fair, and packed them into his saddlebag.


	4. A forced Hand

"NED!" Robert's bear hug left Ned unsteady on his feet and sure that he had cracked a rib. Robert Baratheon, first of his name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm stood before him and he was a sight to behold. Robert had always been strong, tall and muscled like a maiden's wet dream, he'd probably fulfilled some of those fantasies back when he had been a boy but the Lannister betrayal had changed him, he had resolved to become a man worthy of woman and not just because of his titles. He'd cut back on his drinking and whoring and it suited him. He had never looked better.

"Your grace, welcome to Winterfell. Can I offer my hospitality and bread and sa-" "Oh piss on bread and salt, Ned. I have no reason to fear you of all people!" Robert interrupted, "Oh, come on Ned, let's get a look at your family!" Catelyn and Robert greeted each other warmly, Robb stepped forward and shook the king's hand, Sansa curtsied in her usual perfect way, Bran and Rickon bowed. Robert paused when he stepped toward Arya, who looked curious and simply stared up at the giant before her.  
"What's your name, child?" Robert asked, a sad smile spreading across his face. "Arya, your grace." "Ah, the infamous Arya Stark, the wolf blood certainly flows through your veins, you're the spitting image of your aunt, have you ever been told that?" Robert asked, he'd never quite gotten over the loss of his beloved Lyanna Stark. "I was told I looked similar, yes." Arya replied, "But Lyanna was beautiful, I'm not." Robert laughed loudly at that, "Don't worry, little one, and certainly don't let the bastards grind you down. There are many types of beauty." Arya beamed at his words and thanked him.

"Ned, I would like to pay my respects." Robert said quietly after he turned away from Arya. Ned nodded and held up an arm towards the crypts, leaving Robb and Catelyn to deal with the king's men. "My son stayed behind with the baggage train so be ready for him as well." Robert warned. Ned merely nodded and trudged after his childhood friend. He led the way to Lyanna's grave where Robert laid a winter rose on the tombstone. "What happened to Jon?" Ned could wait no longer, Jon Arryn was the father who raised him as he had with Jon Snow. " Old age, there was nothing to be done." Robert replied, tears of grief appearing in his eyes, "But you know why I came here." Ned knew, the king must have a Hand, Robert wanted him to take the position he had dreaded. "Your grace, I-" "I know what you're going to say, Ned. Why did I not consider Tyrion or Stannis? First of all, I did, Tyrion is trying to reach out to the Martells so he can't come to King's Landing, and Stannis died not soon before Jon did." That shocked Ned, Stannis Baratheon was no man's fool. "How?!" was all he could manage. " Greyscale, he contracted it some time after his daughter had and kept it hidden, according to Maester Pylos."

"Listen, Ned. If you're so bloody reluctant to do this, I'll betroth my son to your daughter, Gendry is well past marrying age." Having lost his heirs, Robert had legitimized his bastard from King's Landing and it had been one of his best ever ideas. Gendry was kind, strong, understanding and most importantly, he knew what life was for the lower class. Ned was stunned at the proposal, it would have to be Arya, Sansa was betrothed to Theon Greyjoy. Oh, how she would rage.

"There's something else I want to talk about." Ned chose his words carefully, one wrong word and Robert would become suspicious. "But I need someone here who needs this as much as you do.

The feast was a grand affair, Ned had had the cooks make Robert and Arya's favourite dishes, something that she had noticed judging by the suspicious glances she was giving her parents. Ned couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes. Robert had clearly told Gendry as he was clearly trying not to look at her either, staring down at his food while pushing it around it around his plate. Robb had also been told of his impending marriage and was coping slightly better, he was eating at least. Everyone looked up as the doors to the Great Hall opened and Jon Snow walked in with a smile on his face. "Jon!" Arya, Bran and Rickon immediately jumped out of their chairs and ran towards him in a way that made Sansa gasp, Ned shot her a look before she could complain and she clamped her mouth shut. Robb was just as happy to see him but made his way over with somewhat more dignity than his siblings. 

Jon had tears in his eyes as he hugged his siblings, it had been so long since he'd left Winterfell. He stood up and hugged Robb, patting him on the back. "So, Lord Commander eh?" Robb said, "I did warn you!" Jon replied jokingly. In truth, he'd never expected to be Lord Commander when he first joined and it was even more of a surprise that he was able to see his siblings again. He made his way to the high table and bowed, "My lord, my lady, your grace." "Lord Commander." It was Catelyn who responded, she was unusually warm toward him tonight as Jon suspected she'd done a jig when he left Winterfell. She was clearly pleased to see that her children were so happy. "We left a place for you." His father motioned to a seat next to Arya and Robb, "Thank you, my lord." Jon replied, approaching him and muttering in his ear, "I have something to show you in the kennels later," and made his way over, nodding to Sansa on the way. At Rickon's request he recounted the ranging beyond the Wall, leaving details of the White Walkers and what he had seen at the Fist of the First Men out for his sake, he was just getting to his climbing when his father and the king stood and asked for their attention. "We have three betrothals to announce tonight," the king began, Lord Eddard followed up "First, My eldest son Robb is to be betrothed to Lady Margaery of House Tyrell," Hoots and cheers rang though the hall. Jon was happy for Robb, he deserved a good wife. "Secondly," his father continued, "My eldest daughter, Sansa, is to be wed to Theon Greyjoy and will leave for Pyke in a few weeks." This didn't get as many cheers as the previous announcement, the Ironborn had a rocky relationship with the Northmen, there had been many conflicts before the dragons took Westeros, "And finally," The king finished "My son, Gendry is to marry Lady Arya Stark." Silence rang throughout the hall, broken by a loud crack as Gendry slammed his fork down so hard it was left quivering as he stood and walked out. Arya had gone so pale she looked as dead as Rhaegar Targaryen, "What?!", she croaked. Jon felt sorry for her, he knew she hated the idea of marriage. "You didn't tell me?!" She almost screeched at her father. Lord Stark didn't reply, didn't even move. Arya stood and ran from the hall, "Go after her." Robb whispered in his ear.


	5. The Mountain and the Viper

Tyrion was sat in the Hall of Heroes, where all of the Lannisters who fell in combat were honoured, staring at his brother's armour. He regretted that Jaime had died because he was the only one who had shown him any kindness but he had always been too stubborn for his own good. The kingsguard armour was resplendent but the white cloak was absent, Tyrion had gifted it to Cersei and Tommen had told him that she sometimes lay on her bed stroking the fabric, crying. He pitied her, he knew as well as anyone that you can't control who you love. He had asked Robert to spare him but he had been shouted down, Ours is the fury, he reflected. The fury certainly had been Robert's when he laid down the sentence of death upon Jaime but Tyrion had persuaded him that Cersei valued power over anything and that locking her away with nothing was a greater punishment, Jon Arryn had also promised that Tywin would be spared if he surrendered but Tyrion knew his father and that he would risk anything to save the legacy that Robert threatened. That, in Tyrion's eyes, had been his true genius, by condemning Jaime and Cersei but not Tyrion, Robert had placed a worst-case scenario in front of Tywin. Tyrion would inherit Casterly Rock and that was something Tywin would never allow.

"My lord? A message from Prince Doran." Maester Creylan handed him a letter. Tyrion sent him on his way and opened the letter. 

Lord Tyrion, I wish for justice for my sister's death above anything else, my family has waited for almost twenty years and yet your father did nothing. I hope you have more honour. The men responsible have never been brought to task for their crimes and I believe that all the realm will breath a sigh of relief if they were, Armory Lorch and Gregor Clegane have spread terror wherever they go. If they were brought to justice the realm would know you as a just lord who takes such heinous crimes seriously as well as abate the rage still felt for Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon's deaths. I would consider your family's debt to our house repaid if you would heed my words. Doran Martell, Prince of Dorne.

Doran Martell was a smart man, Tyrion knew that, and he was also correct. Gregor Clegane was hated and feared throughout the Seven Kingdoms and beyond, not the type of man Tyrion wanted in his service. Armory Lorch had been easy enough to deal with, Tyrion had summoned him to the Rock and arrested him upon arrival but the bigger fish was also a bigger problem. The Mountain could not be fought or reasoned with and he was never without his armour or his greatsword, not the sort of opponent Tyrion wanted to tackle head-on. He already had a scar from the war, he'd taken a sword to the face and had been dragged off the battlefield by Bronn. The Mountain had to be taken down subtly and Tyrion had an idea.

"Summon Ser Gregor Clegane immediately." He commanded Maester Creylan. The Mountain That Rides arrived at the Rock a few days later.


	6. The Bull

p>Jon ran out of the hall, trying to catch sight of Arya. The courtyard was silent apart from the clang of steel from the blacksmiths forge, which was not right since Mikken was in the Great Hall. Jon drew his dagger and stepped inside, it was hotter than the seven hells in there and standing by the furnace was a tall figure angrily slamming his hammer on a piece of red hot steel. He let out a loud "shit!" as he dropped it on his foot and turned, seeing Jon for the first time.

"Lord Commander." He greeted, bending down to pick up the steel with the tongs. "Prince Gendry." Jon replied, "I suppose you want to warn me to stay away from your sister." Gendry put the tongs down and stood to his full height, "I hope you realize that the match wasn't my idea but I could use a couple of tips to make sure that she doesn't slit my throat on our wedding night." "Just don't try to control her and normal tactics won't work. Treating her like a lady will only make her resent you more." Jon replied, Gendry nodded. "My prince, why are you here?" Jon was genuinely curious who he was. He had heard about the Lannister rebellion and about the king's other "children" but hadn't heard anything about Gendry. "I was a blacksmith before I was legitimized." Gendry explained. "You're a bastard?!" Jon blurted, immediately cursing himself for his outburst. Gendry simply smiled, "I see news really does reach the Wall late. My father had no other heirs and he didn't want to remarry. I was called the Bull among the smallfolk, I hear you have a few nicknames of your own, Lord Snow. " Jon winced at the name, it had stuck at the Wall and he didn't want it sticking here. "Have you enjoyed your new position?" Jon wanted to change the subject. "Let's just say the best thing about living with my father is that I don't have to worry about slipping in shit every time I go outside and that includes being in power." Jon smiled at that, "I feel your pain. Have you seen Arya anyway?" "Godswood. Is there something you think I could give her?" Gendry said. Jon thought for a moment before smiling, "Have you ever seen a braavosi water dancer?" 

Ten minutes later, Jon walked into the godswood and saw Arya sitting by the Heart Tree, her face lighting up when she saw him. She looked as though she'd been crying. "You know, Gendry isn't that bad. He certainly doesn't want the marriage, his primary concern is you slitting his throat on your wedding night." Arya smiled at the thought that her betrothed was scared of her. "I have missed you, brother." She said, standing and hugging him. "Me too, little sister." mussing her hair in the way that he knew she loved. "Jon, Arya." A voice from behind Jon made them turn around and his father was walking toward them with a curious look on his face. "Father...I can explain..." Jon began, "It can wait." Father cut in, clearly not wanting to discuss the wolves on front of Arya, "Arya, your mother wants to see you and I need to speak to Jon in private." Arya went away with no small amount of complaints but eventually the two were left alone. "How are you?" As always his father was putting his men before himself. "As good as a Lord Commander who dishonoured himself can be." Jon had sent a few letters to Winterfell with some help from Sam. "Jon, I know it was hard but has there-" "I called the search off after the ranging. We couldn't risk the men. I'm sorry, father" Jon had been reluctant to call the search for Benjen Stark off but he'd been under pressure for weeks when he gave up hope. Lord Eddard simply nodded and closed his eyes. "It's not your fault, Jon. It was foolish of me to think you could find him after so long."

His father seemed to be building up his courage until he spoke next, "Jon, I know you want to speak to the king so I've asked him to make time tomorrow but there is something else... after you speak to him privately I need you to join me in my solar at midday for something else and I promise that I will talk about your mother."


	7. The lone wolf and his pack

The next day, Jon had approached his father and asked if he could present the direwolf pups to his siblings. Leading them out of the Great Hall and to the kennels, he unlocked a small paddock and showed them the cubs. "I found them on the kingsroad." He explained as he picked up the albino direwolf that he had named Ghost. "The mother died birthing them and there was one for each of us, two female and four male, I took that as-" Jon was interrupted by a loud "What is going on?" from the mouth of Catelyn Stark. "What are these...things?" she demanded. "I think they may be direwolves, my lady." Jon explained carefully. Catelyn looked thunderous when she opened her mouth to shriek **"HOW DARE YOU! YOU DARE TO LIVE UNDER MY ROOF WHILE YOU COVET MY SON'S BIRTHRIGHT THEN SAUNTER BACK HERE GIVING MY CHILDREN THESE ANIMALS. YOU WANT THEM GONE SO YOU CAN HAVE WINTERFELL!"** before swinging at Jon. Jon brought his arm up sharply and caught her hand as she tried to slap him.

"Why?" Jon said quietly in a tone that made everyone present freeze in sheer terror, "What did I ever do to you? Exist? You have my father to thank for that. You think I am a green boy who thinks he can make a name for himself through treachery, but I am not a green boy. I have seen the dead rise, my lady, I have heard the screams of Hardhome, I have walked among Gendel's bones, I have climbed the Wall." Jon's voice broke as he continued, surprised at the words coming from his mouth, "I have seen things you would never believe, I have lost things that you will never understand and it was all because of you. You treated me like dirt my whole life, I thought that the Wall was cold but now I know what cold truly feels like. I was told that I know nothing and maybe that is true but one thing you should know is that I didn't join the Watch for honour or glory, I joined to escape you. I could have stayed here, I could have had a good life training with my brothers and teasing my sisters but I would never be able to take it. How does it feel, Lady Stark, to know that you made me condemn myself **TO THE FUCKING WALL?!**

Lady Catelyn shrank in terror at the man standing before her, her voice a squeak as she adressed her eldest son, "Robb, I want him gone, I want him to leave. "I am the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Lady Stark. I do not answer to you." Jon replied before Robb could say anything. Robb looked equally shaken when he finally spoke up, "Actually, mother, I think you should leave." And turned back to his siblings and their pups.


	8. Wear it like armour

Ser Gregor Clegane was a giant to most men but to Tyrion, he was truly a mountain. He had to bow his head to get through the door to Tyrion's office and sat down with ill grace and no small amount of disdain, "What is it, imp? I have better things to do than watch you scratch a piece of paper." Clegane had never respected Tyrion the way he had respected Tywin or Jaime, a commonplace error was the standing of size over brain power. Tyrion intended to prove him wrong. He poured a glass of wine for them both though he had no intention of drinking it. "Ser Gregor, my family has valued your service for many years and for that you have my-" "Get to the point imp, you may be a Lannister but I served Lord Tywin above all."Clegane interrupted while quaffing his third glass. Tyrion rathered he didn't drink all of the wine in no small part due to the fact that it wasn't entirely wine. "Very well, I'll get to the point," Tyrion replied amicably, "there have been disturbing whispers from Dorne that I wish to be snuffed out. Including some about the fate of Elia Martell." The wine was beginning to take it's toll and Gregor yawned in a way that would shame any of his namesakes. "I don't like where...this...going...Imp." The Mountain toppled out of his seat.

Tyrion quickly shouted out for his servants to bring the project he'd set them, Maester Creylan with them. "He lives." Creylan said after examining Clegane. That was a pleasant surprise, he'd put enough sweetsleep in his wine to kill a horse. The servants were blacksmiths he'd recruited from Lannisport and had done their job well, Tyrion had ordered a suit of armour that would render it's wearer unable to move, a perfect gift for Doran Martell. It took five minutes just to get Clegane in position, twenty to suit him up and a further hour carry him to the cells. Tyrion wrote the Prince of Dorne to inform him that Gregor was in his custody and that he would make preparations for the journey south.

  



	9. Dragonspawn

Robb was worried about Jon, he had never approved of the way his mother had treated him but he had never known exactly how bad it had been. Robb had been sitting in the kennels, stroking his direwolf cub, Robb had named him Grey Wind and he was certainly worthy of the name. He was waiting for Jon to finish his meeting with the king so that they could train together before midday. But the meeting had run late and there had been no time so he was making his way into his father's solar.

Sat at the desk were his father, Jon, Robert and Mother. "Robb." his father said in greeting, he looked like he'd seen a ghost. "What are we doing here?" he asked. "To talk about Jon's mother." Father replied before turning to Robert, "I want your word that you shall never take up arms against my family." Robb thought this was a strange request but held his tongue. Robert agreed and his father continued, "Jon, what stories have you heard about your mother?" Jon recounted the rumours about Ashara Dayne and Gulltown, his father simply nodded and answered "I loved Ashara Dayne but she is not your mother, your mother died just after the Sack of King's Landing." Robert seemed to realize something, shaking his head, muttering "No, no" his eyes pleading. Father took a deep breath and continued, "Your mother was Lyanna Stark." Silence rang throughout the solar, eventually Robb's mother piped up with a simple "What?!" Jon had gone so pale he could have been mistaken for a marble sculpture. Father pressed on, "But I am not your father, your father was Rhaegar Targaryen." Robert was beside himself, "You kept dragonspawn in your home and you never told me?!" The king stood and instead of Robb's father, Lord Eddard Stark rose from his chair. "I made a promise, Robert. I dishonoured myself for twenty years for Jon." Robb looked at Jon and saw him staring at Lady Stark with hatred and rage in his eyes, making her look like she'd risen from the grave. 

Robb was almost tempted to prod Jon to see how he would react but before he could do anything, Jon stood and addressed the men standing opposite "My lord, Your Grace, I think I should be headed back to the Wall." When Robb stepped forward Jon struck him across the face, sending Robb reeling to the floor. Robb got up and ran after him, he reached the courtyard before he could even see the Lord Commander. "Jon!" he yelled to get his brother's attention, Jon pretended not to hear, still trudging through the snow but when Robb got close enough he drew his sword and swung it at him. Robb barely blocked the sword with his own, Jon responded with a riposte and sidestepped Robb's next swing. "Jon, calm down, we can talk." Robb pleaded, Jon shook his head and simply said "What is there to talk about?" Robb saw for the first time that he was crying as he pressed the attack. Robb was a capable swordsman in his own right but Jon could have rivalled Ser Jaime Lannister himself, he knew he was fighting a losing battle as he gave ground. Jon drove him back to the wall of the old keep and before he knew it, Robb had lost his sword and was on his knees while Jon held his own sword to his throat. Robb realized that the sword was made of Valyrian steel, no wonder he had appeared like the Warrior himself. Jon opened his mouth to say something but before he could form a sentence he was grabbed by a strong pair of hands and with a yell of **"ENOUGH!"** was hauled away by Gendry Baratheon.

Meanwhile, Lord Stark was equally constructive conversation with Robert. "He is rapespawn and I want him dead!" Robert bellowed. Ned stood his ground and asked "How do you expect to do that?" coldly. "I'll put a price on him." That stoked Ned's anger, "Robert, if you do this I will call my banners and I will declare for Jon as rightful heir to the Iron Throne." Ned Stark never made hollow threats and Robert knew it. "Why do you care for a dragonspawn born of rape and blood?" At those words Ned lost control. "He wasn't born of rape Robert!" That stopped Robert in his tracks. "What do you mean he wasn't born of rape?!" Ned took a deep breath before responding. "Lyanna despised you, Robert. But she loved Rhaegar. She wasn't kidnapped or raped, she eloped and gave herself to him. On her deathbed, she made me promise to look after her son and he is now my son as much as he was Rhaegar's. Robert, if you ever loved Lyanna, let her son live." 


	10. And I keep on paddling

Catelyn Stark lay curled up in the chambers she shared with her husband, the warmest room in Winterfell felt so cold. Her encounter with Jon in the kennels still made her want to bawl her eyes out but nothing could stand up to the shame she felt at Ned's revelation. She was truly an evil woman, she had loathed the boy because of his existence and had hated Ned for bringing him here. She had hated her husband for being a kind man who loved his family. Her mind was filled with face of her son, the shame and disappointment in Robb's eyes and the rage, the pain and the hatred in Jon's, the boy she had once sworn in the sight of Gods and Men to love. She had heard the legends of Hardhome and of Gendel's children but Jon had lived them, he was a better man than anyone Catelyn had ever known, he had lived through nightmares and thrown away his dreams and it was all her fault. She fell asleep pondering what she had become.

Catelyn knew better than to try to make amends for what she had done but she would help him without him knowing, she had sent a raven to Lord Tyrell to invite his daughter to Winterfell and beseech him to send supplies to the Wall. It seemed the best way and it allowed Robb to meet Margaery before the wedding.

Jon rolled on the cobblestones before picking up Longclaw and sheathing it. "Somebody tell me what in seven bloody hells is going on!" Gendry demanded, red faced and sweaty from the forge. "Ask Lord Stark," Jon spat and turned away "I need to speak to the king." Robert was in the hall drinking from a horn. "Your Grace, I need a word." Robert looked at him curiously. Jon took a deep breath and continued, "I need to know that you won't neglect the Watch just because of my heritage and I wanted to speak about new laws that could aid the Watch." Robert sighed and motioned to Jon to sit down. One hour later they emerged from the hall, both half-drunk and thoroughly depressed. Jon left for the Wall the next day, much to Rickon and Arya's consternation.


	11. The Winter Rose

The North was cold, Margaery Tyrell reflected. The coldest it got in Highgarden was that time when the ice in their drinks didn't melt straight away and yet here she was, riding in winter clothes meant for Highgarden's winter, not the North. She cursed herself for not having new clothes made before she left but cursed her father more for insisting that she leave for Winterfell as soon as Lord Stark accepted the proposal. Mace Tyrell was ambitious, arrogant and stupid, he had been trying to weasel Margaery into the king's bed ever since the Lannisters rebelled. The only explanation for his change of heart was her grandmother, Olenna Tyrell. Mace was a less competent version of Tywin Lannister, he had his ambition and obsession with his own legacy but none of his ruthlessness or political skill, there was a reason Tywin had been Hand of the King for 20 years. Olenna had trained her in matters of politics since she was a child and though she had never openly admitted it, Lady Olenna had accepted that the student was now the master.

Despite her misgivings she was looking forward to meeting Robb Stark and finally being able to rebuff her suitors. If Margaery had a golden dragon for every proposal she had received she would have been richer than the Lannisters and the Reynes combined on top of her family's already considerable wealth. She knew that Robb was as honourable as his father so he would never be unfaithful, he was a capable swordsman, though not as great as his half-brother Jon Snow who she was also curious to meet. He was said to be handsome and strong, again like his father.

"Margaery?" Garlan's voice brought her out of her thoughts. "We could stop for the night here or press on to Winterfell." "Which would you prefer?" Garlan shook his head and replied "It's your wedding." Margaery winced at that. "Let's press on anyway, I want to sleep in a bed tonight." Garlan smiled as if he knew that wasn't the only reason. "As my lady commands."

Robb was sat in his father's solar with Grey Wind, Lord Stark had left Robb in charge so he could help Robert with preparations for the journey to the capital. He had been looking over the ledgers from the previous years and now everywhere he looked he saw numbers floating in his field of vision. He was too distracted to carry on, too shocked by the man he had thought was his brother. He wasn't angry with Jon, he'd probably do the same in his shoes, he was upset with his mother and father, both for completely different reasons. His mother's hatred for Jon amounted to nothing but spite, it wasn't his fault that he existed. Before he was able to complete that thought, Maester Luwin entered the room with a letter sealed with green wax. It was adressed to his father but Robb opened it anyway. After reading the small message, Robb sent his empty cup flying. "Damn him!" Lord Tyrell had no shame, he had sent Margaery early. Robb ran through the halls to find his father in the courtyard of Winterfell. "Father, we need to prepare for the Tyrells, Lady Margaery is almost here!" 


	12. Needle

/>

A knock at the door to her chambers brought Arya out of her thoughts. She stood up from her bed and went to the door, "Who is it?" she called, "Gendry." came the response. Arya was tempted to send him away but then she remembered Jon's words. She opened the door to see the crown prince holding a long package, "Can I come in?" Arya nodded and stood to one side, Gendry entered and sat on the bed next to her trunk. Arya had been ordered to pack for the trip to King's Landing and was still working on it. "I know you don't like the idea of marriage any more than I do but I want to at least get to know you." Arya could understand that, it didn't mean she agreed with it. "What's that?" She asked, gesturing at the package. Gendry looked as though he'd forgotten it was there, "It's...customary to give a gift to your betrothed but Jon warned me that normal tactics wouldn't work, I.. decided to get a different sort of gift." He handed the package to her. Arya took it with some apprehension, like she was worried he was tricking her. Gendry watched her closely as she unwrapped the package to reveal a braavosi stiletto. Gendry smiled at Arya's expression as she examined the blade. "Do you like it?" Arya didn't respond for a moment, stood and made a practice stab. She turned back to Gendry with a stupid smile plastered on her face. Gendry opened his mouth and Arya hugged him fiercely, "Thank you, Gendry." Gendry was so surprised by the gesture that he couldn't even form a reply before she pulled away and looked at him quizzically. "Where did you get this?" Gendry took a breath, "I was a blacksmith in King's Landing before I was legitimized." Arya's jaw dropped in shock, "YOU made this?!" Gendry smiled and switched to his old accent, "Aye, m'lady." He stood and walked to the door, "I'll leave you to it, I'll see you in the capital." "You're not coming with us?" Gendry shook his head, "I'm visiting the Wall and then I'm going with your sister to the Iron Islands. I need to see more of the Kingdoms." "Wait." Arya walked up to Gendry and gave him a peck on the cheek, "Thank you for Needle, Gendry." "Thank Jon, he gave me the idea." Gendry left the room marvelling at the change in Arya's behaviour, he knew he had to be careful, the last time a Baratheon had been infatuated with a Stark, the greatest dynasty in history was brought to it's knees, but he swore to himself that he would make it work. There was a racket coming from the courtyard and from where he was standing he could see the Tyrell banners.


	13. The North Wind Blows

Margaery didn't know what to think as she rode through the gates of Winterfell, it was clear that she wasn't expected and she would be having choice words with her father when she saw him next. She could see Lord Stark and his son standing in the courtyard, both looking rather annoyed. She dismounted her horse alongside her brother and walked up to them. "Lord Stark, I apologize for being here so soon, my father insisted that I leave as soon as he got the raven accepting the betrothal. May I introduce my brother, Garlan?" Garlan removed his helmet and nodded. "My lord." Lord Stark stepped to one side, "This is my son Robb." Robb looked like a statue as he bowed, "My lady." "I'll leave you two to get accquainted." Lord Stark said, trudging off into the snow shouting at his men to get Margaery's things indoors. Margaery was left alone with her betrothed, he certainly lived up to the stories. He looked like a Tully, blue eyes, coppery hair, but there was no mistaking the fact that he was a Stark, the way he carried himself, his demeanour, his stony face. He was still a handsome man."I'll show you to your chambers." He said, motioning toward the castle.

Robb was in truth surprised by his lack of irritation once he saw Margaery's face. She was everything he heard about her and more, he found himself less reluctant to marry than he had first thought he would be. She was certainly pretty. "Is something the matter?" She asked suddenly, making him stop in his tracks. "Is it me?" That made Robb look her in the eye, "No, of course not, my lady." He was worried that she thought he was angry with her. "Then tell me, so I can help you. We are to be married, we shouldn't keep secrets from each other." She brought her hand to his face. Robb smiled and took her hand in his, "It concerns my brother, Jon." "What's the matter?" Robb breathed in and replied "My father has a secret and Jon is at the heart of that secret." "Does he know?" Robb nodded, "He does, and I'm worried that it could destroy him. If the truth ever got out, he would be in a great deal of danger." "From the king?" "No, the king knows. He's in danger fromm the king's enemies." "Why?" Robb realised he had said too much, whatever she would be, Margaery was still a stranger. He cursed himself for letting his guard down. He knew of her reputation as cunning politician. It was as if Margaery could read his mind, "Robb, I know my reputation makes me difficult to trust but even if you never come to love me, I want to be a friend to you."


	14. For the Watch

Jon was tired out of his mind by the time he reached Castle Black, having ridden up the kingsroad without a single stop. He'd been unable to stomach the sight of Winterfell any longer and had left as soon as he had agreed the final terms with the king. He couldn't sleep, however, without updating his lieutenants of the agreement. He summoned Bowen Marsh, Othell Yarwyck, Thoren Smallwood and Maester Samwell to his chambers. "The king has agreed to pass new laws to ensure the survival of the Watch," He began, they all looked hopeful and curious."First, all of the great houses of Westeros will cede a portion of their harvest proportionate to their total yield." That elicited smiles from all four of them, "Secondly, he has agreed that there should be a representative of the Watch on the Small Council." That announcement was met with silence, Jon continued, "Prince Gendry will be visiting the Wall, I will ask him to serve until I can find a suitable brother." "You won't go yourself?" Bowen Marsh asked. Jon shook his head, "I am Lord Commander, my place is here." He took a breath and continued. "We have agreed a place for the wildlings." Nobody said a word. "I plan to send them to Skagos, the king will provide the ships from Dragonstone to help us. The Skagosi are similar enough to the wildlings that peace should be possible, they will be south of the Wall, out of our hair and unable to return to Westeros." Sam opened his mouth to speak but hesitated, "Go on, Sam." Jon encouraged. "W-won't the skagosi have a problem with this?" He stammered. "Yes but not with us."

Jon stood on top of the Wall staring at the forest and the land beyond. He turned to see Aliser Thorne and a group of his supporters emerging from the cage. "Is something wrong?" Jon asked, loosening Longclaw in its sheath. "The wildlings. We want them gone." Thorne demanded, Jon had lost his patience with the bloody fool, "There is a plan in place but it will take time." Jon responded, trying to keep his voice calm. Thorne sneered, "Where will you put them now? Into your bed again?" Look who's talking. Jon thought. "Kill them and be done with it." A voice called from among the crowd. "And then what? THe Others will just bring them back. Every dead wildling isn't an enemy slain, it's an enemy that is that much more dangerous. My plan will get rid of them, maybe get some of them killed and the rest will be stranded. The wildling threat will be gone." Jon felt guilty about the choice he had made but it had been the only way. "You're weak, Snow." Thorne sneered, "It was a mistake letting you live." Jon turned away. They know nothing, Ygritte, and they never will. 

"For the Watch." Thorne muttered. Jon heard the scrape of his dagger and spun away, drawing Longclaw just quickly enough to deflect the first blade, all of them had blades in their hands. "You know what the penalty is, don't you?" Jon asked in the same tone he had used with Lady Stark. "It's a good thing you won't be around to give it." Thorne responded, charging with knife in hand. Jon slammed Longclaw's pommel into his nose, tripping him up as he staggered past. Two more brothers advanced, Jon slashed at one's wrist while dodging the other. He gasped as another dagger found it's mark in his side, Longclaw claimed the offender's head which made the next attacker hesitate, giving Jon an opportunity to draw his own dagger and slam it into his chest. He didn't have time to look for his next target because Thorne pushed his own blade into Jon's back. Jon screamed and took Thorne's arm at the elbow. He picked up another dagger and threw it to cover his advance, driving Longclaw through his target's stomach. The last man threw his dagger away and fell to his knees, pleading "Mercy, my lord,mercy!" Jon made a quick end, that was his mercy. Turning away, he fell to one knee, looking up as he heard a sound. "Olly." He said, before an arrow hit his shoulder and knocked him to the floor. His steward stepped forward, "You were going to let them through." he said accusingly. Jon couldn't speak for a moment before he spluttered "Yes, and no." "WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!" Olly yelled. Jon's hand closed around the dagger in his back, pulling it out with a grunt, he tried to stand but his leg gave out and he fell again. "I was going to move the wildlings to Skagos." He said bluntly. "They killed my entire family!" "The king killed my father. I don't hate him." Olly frowned, "But Ned Stark-" "Ned Stark is not my father. My father was Rhaegar Targaryen." Ollly's jaw dropped open, Jon continued "It wasn't the ordinary wildlings that killed your family, it was the Thenns, I killed their leader and the band that was with them died on the Wall. But one death I do resent..." Olly was beginning to look scared, "You killed the girl I loved." Olly fell to his knees, Jon decided to make a quick end and pushed his knife into Olly's heart. "And now his watch is ended." he muttered.


	15. Our Blades are Sharp

Robb was walking in the glass gardens of Winterfell with his betrothed, enjoying the pleasant weather that was rare in this time of the season. He was genuinely beginning to like Margaery beyond his initial attraction towards her, her jokes made him smile, her laugh was almost intoxicating and he was beginning to notice things he hadn't noticed before, the shine in her eyes, the curves of her body... Robb forced himself to stop thinking and respond to her question about the Winter roses, "I wouldn't do that." He warned as she reached out to touch one, "One of the gardeners tripped into a bush of those once, he needed 25 stitches."

Margaery laughed and retreated from the rose, "I shall avoid them like the plague, then!" She joked, Robb smiled and knelt beside the rose, drawing his dagger and cut off the rose head and used the stem of another plant to tie into her hair. "There." He said, looking proud of his handiwork. "Thank you, dear." Margaery patted him on the back jokingly. As they walked out of the gardens, Margaery thought about how their relationship had evolved since they'd first met, the days were leading up to their marriage at the end of the month and they'd tried to make the most of the time they had to bond as Robb's duties had eaten up much of his time. She had attended a few of the meetings and the times when grievances were brought before him and already she could see that he was a fantastic lord. Her father was not respected, loved or feared, the common people followed Mace Tyrell _because_ he was their lord but the people loved and respected and admired Robb. He had fought against the Lannisters when they had rebelled, he had served with distiction and he had earned his people's respect. Robb insisted that it was his father who was the true reason but many, including Margaery, felt otherwise. She truly was beginning to love him, she knew that in her heart.

The issue of Jon Snow still hung over their heads, neither Robb nor Margaery had mentioned him since their initial conversation but she was still curious. She had spent hours in her bed wondering what his secret was but she didn't want to anger Robb. Margaey had decided to ask him after the wedding, when he knew he could trust her. "Hello, Grey Wind." She greeted the wolf as he approached, the direwolf licked her hand as Robb stroked his fur. He seemed to have taken a liking to her, much like his master, and Robb seemed very happy about that. He'd probably been worried that he would dislike her and cause a big fuss.

A few hours later Robb was in his solar, reading a very troubling report. A deserter from the Night's Watch had been captured on Bolton lands but instead of being turned over to Robb he had been flayed and hung from the walls of the Dreadfort, the Bolton's ancestral stronghold. Robb was furious and wrote a letter demanding that Roose Bolton come to Winterfell to explain himself. Margaery had tried to calm him but he was still very bitter about the whole situation.

Robb had insisted that Margaery, Catelyn and Sansa stay away from the Boltons when they arrived, he was frightened of their reputation and their history with the Starks was not a happy one. As the Bolton party made its way into the courtyard of Winterfell, Robb's frown deepened as he couldn't see any sign of the Leech Lord, a nickname originating from his habit of leeching himself, among them. "Where is Lord Bolton?" he asked. "Indisposed," The leader replied, "he sent me in his place." He was a large man with meaty lips and a smirk on his face. Grey Wind was growling and Robb was feeling uneasy himself. "And you are?" "His son, Ramsay." Robb couldn't see very much resemblance to his father but- Ah, his eyes. They were as pale as Roose Bolton's but there was something else in them... "Please, come with me." Robb said to Ramsay, motioning to the castle behind him before trudging off, forcing Ramsay to follow. 

Margaery watched the strangers arrive and watched Robb greet them, she could see that he was uneasy. "Why are they here and why can't we meet them?" Sansa asked. Robb had told Margaery why the Boltons had been summoned but he hadn't told Sansa. "The Boltons are dangerous people, little bird." She said, "Robb just wants us to be safe." Sansa was a perfect lady and her direwolf, Lady, was a perfect companion. Catelyn was being very quiet, Sansa had confided that she'd been like that since the day the king and her father had held a meeting. Sansa thought that it was because of the way Jon Snow had spoken to her in the kennels. She repeated what Jon had said and it made Margaery pity him. She hadn't even met him yet.

Robb sat down behind his desk and bid Ramsay sit in the chair opposite him. "You know why you're here?" Robb asked. "Some deserter that was killed." Ramsay seemed relaxed about the whole affair. "A deserter from the Wall who should have been sent to me so that I could deal with him was instead found flayed and hanged at a town in your father's lands. Explain yourself." "My men captured him in our lands and we decided to save you the hassle, I have no idea what happened to the body." Robb sighed and rubbed his eyes. "You overstepped your boundaries, for a start." "And for that I apologise." "But you are lying." Ramsay's face twisted into a snarl. "What are you suggesting?" "We questioned the townspeople, they say that the man was alive as you flayed him and that you were with them. I can't tolerate that." "Why does it matter?" "It matters because you _flayed_ him, a practice that has been outlawed for centuries." Robb was beginning to lose his patience, "You have to pay the price. You will give a quarter of your harvest to the Night's Watch and you will send every one of the men involved to the Wall." Ramsay spluttered slightly and stood up, "You think you can command us, boy?" Robb's temper flared, "As Lord of Winterfell, I can, Bastard." Ramsay slammed a fist on the desk. "You'll pay for this, Stark, even the Targaryens got their comeuppance and our blades are sharp." "You can go." Robb waved a hand dismissively. Ramsay kicked the door open and stormed out. Robb reached out with a shaking hand and poured a glass of wine for himself.


	16. Hear me roar

Tyrion walked into Cersei's cell with a jug of wine and a loaf of bread. Cersei was lying in bed holding the white cloak. "I brought you this." He said. The wine was more for him than Cersei since he had a feeling he wouldn't enjoy their chat. "Where is Joffrey and what was that drink you gave him?" "In an oubliette." Tyrion replied nonchalantly as he put the tray down. _"What?"_ Cersei screeched and swung at him, Tyrion had expected that reaction and dodged. He didn't mention the "drink" he'd given Joffrey, he didn't want to reveal all of his cards too soon, especially not the laxative. "I want to speak to you about Myrcella." Cersei calmed down and sat on the bed. "I am taking Tommen and Myrcella to Dorne. I want to form an alliance." "With a marriage." Cersei was stupid in many regards but she had some intelligence in her brain when she bothered to use it. "Yes, that is what I hope to do." Tyrion nodded, "I'm taking them to King's Landing first so that I can ask Robert to legitimize them." "What makes you think he won't kill them out of hand?" "Robert may despise you but he accepts the fact that your children are not responsible for your mistakes, an area where Catelyn Stark failed miserably. He hates Joffrey because he is a little cunt but he still cares for Tommen and Myrcella."

Cersei nodded and poured herself some wine. "I also plan on taking them to the Wall, if Doran Martell allows it which he should." Tyrion wanted to show his sister's children wonders because that was what they deserved, that and he would be stopping at Winterfell along the way, he had met Robb Stark during the Siege of Lannisport and the two had become fast friends. He was also curious to meet Jon Snow. "Is kinslaying not enough now? You want to leave my son to freeze to death?" Tyrion barely contained his temper at Cersei's jab, he still regretted firing the shot that killed his father. "Well I won't say that I haven't thought of sending Joffrey up there, the only thing that stopped me was the fact that it would be cruel to inflict him on poor old Jon Snow. I think he's suffered quite enough, thank you very much." Cersei chuckled and sat back.

Tyrion waited until Tommen and Myrcella had finished their lessons before summoning him to his office, "Uncle Tyrion, Ser Aron says I'm ready to start using real steel swords!" Tommen exclaimed. "Well done, Tommen!" Tyrion held a great deal of affection for his future heir. "I've called you here to make an announcement." he began, "We're going to take a long trip, but we'll going to King's Landing first." This made the two children exchange a worried look. "I'm going to ask Robert to legitimize you both as Lannisters." Tommen beamed at the thought before noticing his sister's expression, "Won't he kill us?" She asked. "I understand your concern, love. I've spoken to your mother and we agree that Robert doesn't hold you responsible for our family's mistakes, and anyway, Eddard Stark is Robert's Hand now and the last time something like that happened it left a giant stain on history." Tyrion cleared his throat, " After King's Landing I have business in Dorne, I need to meet Prince Doran and after that, I plan to take you both to the Wall." Tommen gasped, "We'll be stopping at Winterfell along the way so you can meet Robb Stark. I think he and his new wife will be a good role model to both of you. I also would like to meet Jon Snow, the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. I have matters to discuss with him as well." Tyrion smiled. Tommen looked overjoyed at the prospect of seeing the world. "Off you go, Tommen, you don't want to be late for Ser Aron. I need to talk to your sister." Tommen ran off with a huge smile on his face.

"Is your meeting about Elia Martell?" Myrcella asked. "Yes, it is." Tyrion replied, steeling himself, "Myrcella, I wanted to speak to you about marriage." Myrcella nodded, "I was wondering if you would consent to marrying Trystane Martell, Doran's second son. He is close to your age and by all reports fair to look upon." Myrcella blushed slightly and looked at her hands, "I don't know." Tyrion nodded, "You don't have to decide now, you can meet him first, talk to him, get to know him, and make your choice." Tyrion stood and walked over to her, taking her hands in his. "Remember our words, Myrcella." She looked up, smiling, "Hear me roar." "Right, and if you don't like Trystane, if he mistreats you, if the Martells mistreat you because of who we are, make them hear you roar."


	17. The Prince that was promised

When Jon Snow had blacked out he'd expected to die. It certainly felt like it, cold and dark. But then he was standing, all he could see was black but he felt a warmth spread through him, like warm stew or mulled wine. He still couldn't see anything, but then he heard it, running water. It reminded him of the time in the cave, then he saw light come from a crack in the darkness. Jon took a step, then another before running towards the light. He hit a wall, screaming in frustration, Jon felt for the crack. He knelt and crawled through it.

And he emerged into the cave, the cave that housed his every regret. It looked exactly the same, but instead of just Ygritte, standing naked before him, it was Ygritte and two other figures. A man with silver hair and lilac eyes, and a woman with dark brown hair and the grey eyes of House Stark. "Son." Rhaegar Targaryen said. "Father, Mother, Ygritte." Jon managed. "We're so proud of you, Jon." Lyanna said, "And so, so sorry." Rhaegar added. Jon didn't know what to think. "Why?" "We never got to see you grow, see you take your first steps, see you train, we left you with Ned and that bitch Catelyn Stark." "Lord Stark was always kind, he treated me like his son." Rhaegar frowned, "And yet he didn't give you a name." "I have a name." "Snow," Lyanna cut in, "You are a Stark, Jon. You are my son." And a Targaryen. Jon added in his mind. "You are so much more than that. You are the Prince that was Promised." "Oh for the love of... Rhaegar, you parroted that bloody prophecy at Elia when Aegon was born." Lyanna turned and snapped. Aemon mentioned that prophecy as well, but he said it was Danaerys. "Jon, find my sister, take her to wife and retake Westeros." Rhaegar pleaded. Jon shook his head, "I am a man of the Watch, as Aemon was." "There's another option," Ygritte said. "Come back to the cave, Jon Snow, we never should have left." "Be with us, your family, your mother." Lyanna pleaded "Isn't that what you always wanted?" "I wanted to be a Stark but now I can never have that. I won't become a Targaryen for a dead man." Jon said coldly. "I swore a vow and I will keep to that vow until I die." That made them laugh, "You are dead, your vow means nothing now."

It was as if lightning had struck him and suddenly he was standing in Hardhome. Ygritte and his parents were still there but Ygritte had an arrow in her chest, blood on her lips, Lyanna had gone pale, her hair strewn with petals, blood on her dress. But it was Rhaegar, clad in the armour he wore on the Trident, who was the grisliest sight, his armour was as black as night, the chestplate was smashed inwards, into his chest, guts and bone protruded from the cavity, blood splattered his chin and dripped from his hands. "You belong dead." They said together. "No. I am still alive and I am still the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. I have a duty." "You belong with us." "No." Jon stepped back, wind blew in his face, he could see something moving behind them. "Come back to the cave." "No." Figures moved into his view, wildlings. The dead. The people he had failed and at their head, the Night's King. "No." Jon took another step back. **"You know nothing, Jon Snow!"** Ygritte screamed as the Night's King swung his sword, taking his family's heads. "No!" Jon fell to his knees and waited for the end. The sword took him off his feet and onto his back.

"Jon! Jon!" Samwell Tarly's voice sounded panicked. Jon realised he was being shaken violently. He suddenly became aware of a searing pain in his shoulder but he ignored it as he clung to his friend. "You were screaming." Sam said, "I failed them, Sam, I failed my family." Jon managed as he sobbed into his friend's shoulder.


	18. I am yours.

Margaery heard the Boltons leaving and she heard their leader's voice, he sounded furious. That wasn't a good sign. She stood up and ran towards Robb's chambers in an unladylike fashion that she could never have repeated if she tried. She barged in to find Robb sitting in his chair, pale as a wraith, every muscle in his body tensed up and blood pouring from his hand. "Robb!" She ran over to him and grabbed his wrists, trying to coax a reply from him. When he remained still as a statue she slapped him with all her might.

Robb couldn't banish the terrible images that formed in his mind. The thought of his mother and father flayed and hanged as the deserter had been, of his brothers and sisters worn as cloaks by the Boltons as of old. But the most horrifying was the image of Margaery on the rack, her body devoid of skin but for her face, her beauty twisted by agony and frozen by death. It wasn't just the image that shocked Robb, it was how much it shocked him, the terror he felt for the woman he loved. He saw her enter, heard her say his name, felt her touch his wrists. Her slap stung like the seven hells but he still couldn't react. Only the shock of what she did next brought him out of the trance.

Margaery racked her brain, trying to think of a way to rouse Robb from the things she had been taught. All the political skill she had acquired in her life until she remembered what her grandmother had said, use your strengths. She had used her mind, now she used her body, the only reason she was willing to do so was out of desperation for the man she loved. She brought her lips to his. Robb somehow stiffened even further, Margaery could have shattered him if he went any more taut, before bringing a shaking hand to her face. It was unlike any kiss she'd ever shared before, she felt like she was on fire.

Robb shuddered slightly before pulling away, looking at her with surprise written all over his face. "What happened to your hand? Was it him?" She asked. Robb glanced at his hand and swallowed, "No, I had a glass in my hand when..." He trailed off, "I'm sorry." Margaery shook her head, "Don't you dare apologise, Lord Stark." She said sternly. The use of his title only made Robb's desire burn that little bit brighter and he kissed her again. "Of course, Lady Margaery." Margaery giggled against his lips before sitting up abruptly, "We need to get your hand looked at, now!" Robb was in no position to argue and only then realised that he'd been hoodwinked. Damn, that woman was sneaky, she would be more than a match for the North. "Very well, my lady."

Catelyn was equally concerned about the Bolton's behaviour and was also on her way to see Robb when she saw him and Margaery walking out of his office, Catelyn frowned when she saw the blood running from his hand, "Nothing major, mother." Robb said before she could open her mouth. "My hand cramped up while I was holding a glass." He explained. "I'm concerned about the Boltons, Robb. What did you say?" "I told him to hand over some crops and send the men responsible to the Wall." Robb replied, "I want to write to Father to get his opinion on the matter and some advice on Roose Bolton, he will be the real threat if something goes wrong." Catelyn nodded, "Do. He hasn't reached King's Landing yet but he should be there soon." 

Margaery was sick of hearing about the Boltons. "Lady Stark, I was wondering if it would be possible to move our wedding forward." Catelyn and Robb both looked at her before looking at each other. "I think I need to get my hand looked at." Robb said before walking briskly away/ Margaery glared after him before returning her gaze to Lady Stark. "I suppose it couldn't hurt..."


	19. A naked man has few secrets

When Gendry rode through the gates of Castle Black he'd expected it to be buzzing with activity, the Watch only manned three castles for goodness' sake! Instead he found a silent courtyard only occupied by those training their newest brothers. "Who goes there?" A voice yelled from above him, "Prince Gendry Baratheon, here to see your commander." There was a moment's silence before the reply came, "I think you'd best speak to the maester." Gendry didn't like the sound of that. The maester in question was a fat man of around Gendry's age, "You must b-be Gendry, the L-Lord Commander said you were coming." Gendry frowned at his tone. "Where is he?" The fat maester's face quivered, "Follow me." He beckoned, walking towards his own quarters with Gendry in tow. "Where do you come from?" Gendry asked, "I was Randyll Tarly's first son. Samwell Tarly." Jon had mentioned that name once or twice at Winterfell. "Why did you join, you would have had Horn Hill when your father died?" Sam's face fell, "I assume you've heard the stories about how Tywin Lannister treated his son Tyrion?" Gendry had heard the stories from Tyrion himself and they sickened him to the stomach, he nodded. "Well my father was very much the same with me. I was an embarassment, a craven and Lord Randyll Tarly, one of the greatest commanders in the Seven Kingdoms would never let a craven inherit Horn Hill. So he gave me a choice, ´Take the black or on the morrow we will go hunting and you will not return. A stray arrow, a horse tripping and throwing you. Your mother will mourn but the explanation will satsfy her.`I left for the Wall that night." Gendry felt queasy at the thought that a father could be so cruel, he had vowed to be a good father and even better husband to Arya and these tales only strengthened his resolve to do so.

Sam opened the door to his room and on the bed lay Jon Snow, bandages strewn across his chest. "Your Grace." He said in greeting."I would bow but as you can see I am indisposed." Gendry rounded on Sam, "What in seven hells happened?" Jon recounted the attack as Gendry's face got redder and redder. "Did any of them live?" Jon nodded, "Aliser Thorne and a man who fled once the first man died are in the ice cells. I took their cloaks. Lord Bolton likes to say´A naked man has few secrets` Particularly in the ice cells." 

A few days had passed and in that time Gendry had earned the respect of the Night's Watch. He'd taken watch duty, trained with the new recruits and helped the stewards. He'd even taken over the armory, repairing and forging new armour and weapns. It was a constant reminder that Robert had made the best choice he'd ever made when he legitimized his son. The men spoke of him in a way Jon had only heard Jahaerys and Alysanne spoken of before. Jon reflected that both he and Gendry were living proof that bastards could rise high. He walked to the ice cells with Dolourous Edd and Gendry close behind him. He stepped into Thorne's cell first. "Bastards." The knight said in greeting, he was still very bitter over the loss of his arm and the fact that his toes were beginning to freeze off. "I want to know why." Jon said. "You betrayed us once bastard, you fucked that wildling whore then crawled back to us when they found out how false you are." Jon kept his face impassive as Thorne continued. "Now you want to welcome those savages into our land, land that we've bled trying to defend and then you used the White Walkers as an excuse to do it. You're a craven, Snow. Just like your fat friend and just like your father and your brother." 

Jon raised an eyebrow, "Edd, leave us." He didn't want anybody but himself and Gendry to hear what he had to say next. "My father and brother are dead, not craven." Thorne looked nonplussed before sneering "Planning to kill them to get Winterfell, are you?" Jon had been willing to give Thorne a quick death but that was out of the question now. "Lord Stark is not my father and Robb is not my brother. Rhaegar Targaryen was my father." Thorne blanched. "My lord, I didn't know..." Thorne was begging for mercy, but he had closed that door. "I think it's time for the good Ser to learn some humility, Lord Snow." Gendry noted. Jon nodded, "And how do you propose we do that, my prince?" Gendry voiced his idea while Thorne retreated into the cell, quietly pleading.

By the time Jon, Edd and Gendry had hauled Thorne to the top of the Wall, the sun seemed to be coming up. "Bring him here." Jon pointed at the spot he himself had lain a few days prior. They threw Thorne to the floor while he tried to plead. He stood and tried to put up a fight but Jon punched him back down, "Wait!" Thorne cried, "Give me a quick death!" No, you closed that door. Jon thought as he shook his head. "The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword!" Jon pretended to ponder that statement before replying "But I'm not passing a sentence." As Gendry put his foot on Thorne's shoulder, "Try not to piss yourself on the way down," he said, before pushing him off the edge of the Wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're all thnking. "Jon wouldn't do that it's not in his character." I plan to make Jon a lot darker than he is in the books or the show. Think of him as the Lady Stoneheart of this fic.


	20. Because I couldn't keep my promise

Catelyn was still wracked with regret when she was busy preparing the wedding decorations, she couldn't stop thinking about Jon. She needed to get it off her chest and the only way to do that was to speak to Robb so she asked him to meet her after he finished hearing grievances for the day. She was waiting in the solar as Robb and Margaery entered and sat opposite her. Catelyn smiled at the young couple, they reminded her of Ned and herself once they came to love each other. "Why are we here?" Margaery was the first to speak. That startled Catelyn, "You haven't told her." It wasn't a question, Robb's ears turned a violent shade of red as he shook his head. "It didn't feel like the right time." "Well now it is." Catelyn snapped. Robb took a deep breath and turned to Margaery, "You remember I told you that Jon had a secret?" She nodded. "Well, Jon is not my father's son." Margaery's jaw fell open, "His father was Rhaegar Targaryen."

Everything clicked in her mind, it all made sense. Jon was the right age, the right look. "So his mother was Lyanna Stark." Margaer thought aloud. Robb nodded and continued, "He has a claim to the Iron Throne, he has Targaryen blood which is why he was brought here. Robert would have gone into a fury if he'd known at the time." When they turned back to Catelyn, she looked like she'd knocked on the Stranger's door. "I have a confession to make." She didn't look either of them in the eye. "Robb, you won't remember this but when you and Jon were small he fell ill with the pox, Luwin said that he was truly in danger of dying." Margaery was struggling to see why she was bringing this up. "I prayed to the gods that night, but I didn't pray for his survival, I prayed for his death." Robb was the very image of his father, his face not betraying a thing. "But when I sat down at his bedside, I saw an innocent little boy and I knew that I was the most evil woman who ever walked the earth. So I prayed again, to the old gods and the new, to the Lord of Light, to the Drowned God and I said ´Let him live, let him live and I'll love him, like my own son.`and I subjected that poor boy to every torture a heart can know, because I couldn't keep my promise, because I couldn't love another woman's son..." She dissolved into sobs, though neither Robb nor Margaey made a move to comfort her. " _You prayed for my brother's death._ " Robb's voice made both women freeze in terror. Margaery could see the anger, the disgust, the hatred in his eyes and she knew Catelyn could see it too. He stood up slowly and leant over the desk. "Get out." he commanded coldly, "I don't want to see you in Winterfell ever again." 

Catelyn quivered before her own son as she had with Jon but Robb didn't allow himself to waver. "Where would I go?" Robb lost his temper at the pointless question. " **BACK TO RIVERRUN, TO KING'S LANDING, TO SKAGOS, THE STEPSTONES, CASTERLY ROCK, IT DOESN'T MATTER TO ME!** " Robb took several breaths to calm himself down, before looking agan at his mother, "You are banished from the North until further notice." Catelyn stood up and said "Why would I do that?" "Because I am commanding you as Lord of Winterfell." Robb turned and saw Margaery standing with tears pouring down her face, "Margaery, I'm sorry you had to see this." He said, rushing to her and embracing her as she clung to him. Margaery didn't speak for a moment before she addressed Catelyn with an equally cold voice. "I think you should listen to Robb." 


	21. The Small Council

The Red Keep loomed over King's Landing, a great beast of red brick that housed much regret, both for Ned and the Seven Kingdoms alike. Kings had been made there, kings had butchered and been butchered there and a dynasty had fallen there. Robert, on the other hand, was as carefree as a child on his nameday, the guards would hear them before they even saw the banners. **"A BEAR, A BEAR, A BEAR, A BEAR AND A MAIDEN FAIR!"** boomed the king, with his retinue singing along with him. Robert's ascension to the throne had been a rocky one and he had gained many enemies. Yet now he was adored, Jon Arryn had been run the kingdoms and Robert had spoilt them rotten. He had been able to hold tourneys after Tyrion had forgiven half of the crown's debt and the Iron Bank had recieved it's due. Aside from the odd protest about taxes the realm was at peace.

The first thing Ned did was to sup with Arya before heading to the Small Council, Robert had insisted that he consolidate power as soon as possible, "Get it done with and then you can enjoy yourself." As he walked through the corridors he reminisced about the last time he'd left the capital having argued with Robert over the deaths of Rhaegar's children. Only Lyanna's death had reconciled them before Ned rode north to meet his heir and to foster his nephew. And so here he was, dressed in clothes far too thick for the furnace that was King's Landing, waiting for the various sycophants to make their way. Petyr Baelish with his ledgers in hand, Varys with his perfume and samites, Renly with a youthful smle on his face. The men sat next to him were Paxter Redwyne, master of ships after Stannis' death, Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Jacelyn Bywater and the new Grand Maester, Marwyn. Ned and Robert took their seats at the head of the table. "Gentlemen, may I introduce Lord Eddard Stark, our new hand." Each man nodded simultaneously, "It is good to see you, my lord, we are in need of your advice." Varys purred, Ned didn't fail to catch the message there: ´You are no longer in Winterfell, here in King's Landing you are first among equals.`"Lord Baelish," Ned turned to the master of coin, "How are the crowns finances?" Baelish shrugged "Stable for the moment though taxes that should have gone to us have somehow ended up at the Wall." Robert spoke up, "I approved the changes, Littlefinger, no need to get your smallclothes in a twist. I will, however need to speak to Lord Redwyne about aiding the Watch." The rest of the meeting went on as expected but as the Small Council was about to take it's leave, Ned called Baelish over. "I want to see your ledger, Lord Baelish." Littllefinger looked taken aback. "There's nothing that would interest you, my lord Hand." Robert stood up, "Do as he says." Defeated, Baelish obeyed. Ned opened the tome and flicked through the pages until he found finances during the Lannister Rebellion. "It would appear that somebody has some explaining to do." Robert noted before looking up at Baelish. "You think yourself clever, going from dirt to the Small Council is a feat but it would have been more impressive if you hadn't been fucking Lysa Arryn. She got you whatever you wanted, she got Jon to give you every position you hold or have held." Littlefinger was quivering, "You borrowed from the Lannisters, even during the Rebellion and you wanted to make a profit." Robert took out a roll of parchment, "You committed treason." Littlefinger was on his knees, begging for mercy. Robert shoved the scroll into his hands, "This is a bill of Attainder, you are longer a lord nor may ever hold lands."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a question for you guys. I'm considering writing another fic once this one is finished that will be set during the Lannister Rebellion that preludes the events of this fic, featuring POVs from both sides and will expand upon the backstory I have already laid out. Expect violence, tears and sex! Should I do it? Tell me in the comments.


	22. Cruel

Gendry knew something was wrong as soon as he rode into Winterfell, people were muttering in the streets, Gendry picked up enough to know they were talking about a mother. When he saw Robb and Margaery standing at the gate, hand in hand, looking grim. "What happened?" Gendry asked. Robb simply motioned towards the castle and walked away with Margaery. Once they were in Robb's solar, Gendry noticed the bandage on Robb's hand. Robb saw him look and waved it. "Nothing serious." He sat and immediately cut to the chase. "How is he?" Gendry hesitated before speaking. "Not good, not good at all. He was attacked by his brothers on the Wall." "What?!" Robb and Margaery said simultaneously, Gendry quickly recounted the story Jon had told him. "He fought them off but he was wounded." Robb's face was darker then Jon's had been the day he left Winterfell.

"He's...changed, Robb, I could see that. I could see it in his eyes. The rage, the pain, the fear, it's what turns good men cruel." Robb nodded. "What was the commotion outside?" Gendry snapped Robb out of his thoughts. "I banished my mother, until further notice. She'll leave for Riverrun after our weddings." Gendry's jaw dropped. "Why?" Robb told him what she had told him. Gendry nodded, "If she broke a promise like that she deserved what she got." "Family, duty, honour." Robb reflected bitterly, "She promised that he would be a part of our family but she drove him away."


	23. A trout in the jaws of a wolf

Ned was sat in his solar, eating his supper with Arya, when the servant brought him messages sealed in grey wax. Arya was immdiately excited at the thought of a letter but Ned knew Robb wouldn't write if it wasn't urgent. He broke the seal and read the letter from his son. It chilled him to the bone reading what the Boltons had done, though he thought Robb may have been too harsh, he also knew that Robb needed to set an example and show that he was not weak. As if he needed to, Ned and Robb had fought side by side and Robb had proven to be a brilliant commander and tactician. The Boltons had been a thorn in the Starks' side since time immemorial and Roose Bolton's bastard needed to be taught his place, he was welcome to the Dreadfort but he also answered to the King's Justice. Ned knew that Robb had given Ramsay a second chance that he himself would not have given. Robb also mentioned that he and Margaery had decided to move the wedding forward, having realized that their feelings had indeed become real. Ned was pleased that Robb had found happiness in his betrothed, he deserved that much. "Father, what does it say?" Arya's voice brought Ned to his senses. "Robb and Margaery have decided to move the wedding forwrd, sweetling." Ned replied, "They will be married in a few days." Arya frowned, "Shouldn't we be there?" That surprised Ned, Arya usually hated those types of events. "We will see them soon, we are going to Pyke for Sansa's wedding in a month or so." That seemed to satisfy Arya, Ned wondered if it had anything to do with Gendry. From what he'd heard, Gendry had been to the Wall and planned to visit Pyke as well.

Smiling at the thought that Arya was smtten, he reached for the next letter. He broke the seal and read it, confusion giving way to anger. Why in seven hells would Robb do this? If it had anything to do with Margaery, he would personally ride to Highgarden and throttle Mace Tyrell. "What does it say?" Arya had clearly noticed something was wrong, Ned couldn't lie to her, not now. "It would seem that Robb has banished your mother from the North, he will permit her to stay until Sansa is wed to Theon Greyjoy but once that is done she is to return to Riverrun." Arya was the very embodiment of shock and horror for a moment. Ned finished reading the letter, his anger toward Robb slowly turning to others. "Arya," Ned's voice shook, "leave me." Arya recognized the tone of his voice and quickly took her leave. Ned paced for a moment before lashing out at his goblet.


	24. A coat of gold or a coat of red

Tyrion had decided that he, Tommen and Myrcella could ride to King's Landing with a small escot and wait there for the rest of their party and it's cargo before continuing to Dorne and so far, there hadn't been a single hitch. He'd had to sort out a small dispute betweenn two petty lords, sure, but it didn't dammpen the mood. He and his small group rode through the King's Gate and made their way to the Red Keep. It was a moment of mixed emotions for Tyrion and his relations, all three reminiscing about the life they'd once lived there. Tyrion had never truly been happy in either Casterly Rock or King's Landing, though he had preferred King's Landing for a time, he had come to love Casterly Rock for the peace it allowed him. He shook himself back to reality and dismounted his horse, passing the reins to a stableboy. He took Myrcella's hand in his and patted it reassuringly, "Remember what I told you Myrcella." His niece smiled and recited "Hear me roar." Tyrion smiled back. The Lannisters walked through the Red Keep until they reached The Tower of the Hand and inside was "Lord Eddard Stark." "Lord Tyrion" Tyrion shook his hand and continued, "I think congratulations are in order, you finally got rid of Littlefinger!" Tyrion had laughed himself shitless when he heard the news that Baelish had finally recieved his comeuppance.

Ned smiled and greeted the two Lannister children in turn. Despite the fact that Tyrion had betrayed his own family, he had grown to like the dwarf and admired his courage. He was on similar footing with Tommen and Myrcella, he knew it wasn't their fault and that they deserved another chance. "I'll take you to Robert." They made their way through the castle to the throne room when Tyrion pulled him to one side. "In about a week, if the gods are kind, my men will arrive with a very large suit of armour, I need you to make sure there's room for it." Ned knew that Tyrion was trying to improve relations with Dorne and giving them Gregor Clegane was a good move, it would make him popular in the other kingdoms too. He agreed to look into it and with that they stepped into the throne room. 

Robert Baratheon looked quite imperious sitting on the monstrosity that was the Iron Throne. Tyrion bowed to his king and his niece and nephew did the same while Lord Stark stood beside Robert. "Your Grace, I know that my sister's betrayal cut you deeply and that you may feel bitter towards her family but Tommen and Myrcella are not at fault." Robert smiled and stood from the throne, "You don't have to cozen to me, Tyrion. Your sister may be a bitch and Joffrey just as bad but Tommen and Myrcella, you deserve every happiness in the world. You deserve to have a good life and if making you Lannisters can give you that then who am I to stop you?" Myrcella was in tears as she looked up at the man she had once called her father. "Thank you, your grace, for everything." Tyrion smiled before exclaiming "Now, now, Myrcella, when I said make them hear you roar this wasn't quite what I had in mind!" in an uncanny impression of their old septa. The throne room was filled with laughter at the outburst.


	25. A man in chains

If there was one thing that Jon had realised when Thorne had died was that actions speak louder than words. He needed to send a message that he was not weak. He'd had Thorne's body hanged off the Wall next to his last accomplice before setting off to meet the wildling leaders. It was one of the rare occasions that he took some guards and his direwolf with him but Sam had been adamant that he not move his arm until the wounds healed, he'd pulled the stitches when he'd manhandled Thorne. The meeting had been arranged at the heart tree north of the Wall. Jon dismounted his horse and Tormund Giantsbane did the same, he'd been a captive since the last assault.

"Well, come on boy. I don't have all day." Tormund exclaimed. Jon stepped into the cicle and sat on a stump, motioning for Tirmund to do the same. A few minutes later, Ghost growled as Rattleshirt, Harma Dogshead and Varamyr Sixskins entered and sat oopposite him. "Get this over with, crow. I want have a go at you myself. Jon raised an eyebrow and pointed at the Wall, "Those two also wanted a go at me. Would you like to ask them how it went?" Jon's tone brooked no argument, Rattleshirt looked where was poiting and paled. He sat down without another word. Jon took a map from his pocket and unfolded it. "I have spoken to the king and to Lord Stark." Jon began. "We don't answer to your king, boy." Varamyr cut in "But unfortunately for you, I do, sixshits." Jon retorted as Tormund almost fell off his stump laughing. The other leaders and Jon's guards chuckled, even Ghost looked amused. Varamyr had begun to resemble a beetroot so Jon pressed on. "We have agreed to settle you on Skagos, Robert has decided to relinquish his authority there so you will still be free folk rather than be under a king." That made the leaders smile. "There are some conditions." They weren't going to like this.

"First, you will swear to cease raiding until the ships we need arrive. Secondly, you will cease attacking our ravens." Varamyr opened his mouth so Jon cut him off. "Yes, we know it was you. Thirdly, you will obey myself and my officers. If you break these rules, Robb Stark will call his banners and we will wipe you out once and for all." He stopped to let it sink in before continuing. "When the time comes you will surrender your weapons and anything taken from us or the southern lands. You will also leave 100 boys to be trained as men of the Watch." This caused all of the other people at the meeting to stand and begin arguing. Jon waited for the din to subside before continuing. "As reparation for the brothers you have killed," You should be thankful it isn't more. He added in his head. "And you may never return to Westeros. These terms are non-negotiable, take them or leave them. I have been as fair as I can and there's already been an attempt on my life. If you were dealing with someone else I can assure you he would not be so understanding." Jon stood and unchained Tormund, "As a show of good faith, I'm releasing Tormund to you." He then made to leave before turning, "It's the best offer you'll ever get, if you won't take it for yourselves, take it for your children and grandchildren," 


	26. The Sun of Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be spacing these out a lot more because I have more to do. Don't worry, I'm not leaving this fanfic, if I ever do I will make sure you know why.

Maragery was enjoying the days leading up to her marriage with her soon-to-be husband, despite the incident with Lady Stark. She still felt slightly guilty about the way she'd spoken to her, she'd just been disgusted that she'd wish death upon a child simply because he was her husband's son. She knew that Sansa and her brothers were angry with Robb and that they'd tried to change his mind many times, she'd ask him as well once they were married. They were enjoying the final feast before they would be forbidden from seeing each other until their wedding tomorrow evening. She would spend the day with Sansa and her friends making the final preparations while Robb would spend the time with his duties and his bannermen. Robb had taken her aside before the feast to warn her. "Some of my father's bannermen don't agree with my father's decision to marry me to you, some feel that you are too weak, many felt that their own daughters would be better suited. I don't think you are weak." She smiled and kissed him quickly, "Thank you." Robb took a breath, "Just be careful, some feel that they are owed something." And with that they had walked into the hall.

Robb's mind was racing with doubt and had been for days. He was still angry with his mother but he regretted what he'd done, seeing Sansa and Bran and Rickon look at him the way they did now was something that affected him more than he would admit to himself. It was too late now, he had made his choice. Another worry was Jon, Gendry had warned him that his brother was changing, Robb had never expected him to do what he had done to Thorne. _"The rage, the pain, the fear, it's what turns good men cruel."_

Margaery watched as a gaunt man with hollow eyes approached the high table. Gendry leant over and tapped Robb on the shoulder, muttering in his ear, "Karstark." Robb muttered something she couldn't hear and stood to greet the other man. "Lord Rickard." "Lord Stark." The lord of Karhold looked pointedly at Margaery who nodded demurely. "I see you like your southern rose, flowery as she may be." Margaery was worried that Robb would take offense, but he simply replied, "I think, Lord Karstark, that you will find Margaery is anything but flowery." Robb smiled at her, "She will make a fine Lady of the North." Margaery smiled back. "And yet she is not northern. She might not be strong enough." Robb raised an eyebrow but before he could speak Gendry cut in. "I think you should give Margaery a chance before you dismiss her, my lord. Many considered my father ill fit for the crown, many considered Robin Arryn to be a liability, yet both have proven quite suitable for their positions." Gendry was right. For all of his health problem during his youth, Robin Arryn had proven quite adequate a lord. A bit quick to anger and somewhat reliant on his mother, yet he took after his father well. "If this is about Alys, Lord Karstark. You may go." Robb's tone was warning enough. "As you say, my lord." Karstark shot a last venomous look at the couple before turning away.

Robb sighed and sat down. "What was that about?" Margaery asked. "You remember I told you that some houses feel that they are owed something?"" Margaery nodded, Gendry was listening as well now. "Well it's some houses more than others. House Karstark chief among them. When Tyrion went before the Small Council, Houses Baratheon, Arryn and Stark called their banners against the Lannisters. The Karstarks were among the first to go to war but during the Fall of Casterly Rock, Eddard and Torrhen Karstark died." Robb took a gulp from his wine glass. "Many sons died during the war, why were they any different?" Gendry asked. "Because Torrhen Karstark saved my life." Robb replied.

Margaery listened as Robb recounted the battle and as he did, she realised why he had seemed so cold when they first met, it wasn't because he was northern, or a lord, it was because he was a boy. A boy who had seen too much.


	27. You broke my nose

Jon was finishing a letter to the Hand giving the all clear to send ships north when the horn blew once and the door to his chamber opened and Dolorous Edd stepped in "My lord, there's a baggage train coming in the south." That was unexpected, there had been no mention of supplies from the capital. Jon quickly sealed the letter and passed it to Edd. "Take this to Sam." Donning his cloak and swordbelt, he rushed to the gate of Castle Black, the leader was stood at the entrance. "Who goes there?" Jon called, "New recruits and a message from Winterfell." Came the response. "Open the gate." Jon commanded and walked down to greet the other man. "Where's this lot from?" "Bolton lands, my lord. A score or so." Why would Roose Bolton of all people be so generous? "A message, my lord." The man held out a piece of parchment. "You have my thanks, ser." Jon replied as he took the letter. Sam approached him while he read. "My lord?" Jon took a breath, "It appears that Janos Slynt was found in Bolton lands, poor sod fell into Ramsay Snow's hands instead of being sent to Winterfell." Janos had always been a liability, he'd been sent north for corruption and his loyalty to Cersei Lannister. He'd refused to obey Jon's orders until one day, he vanished. He was being transferred to the Shadow Tower to make room for others more suitable, most had assumed that he'd fallen off the edge of the Wall, Jon certainly wouldn't have put it past him. Sam paled slightly at the thought. "They tried to lie their way out of it so Robb ordered them sent to the Wall with a quarter of the Bolton's harvest."

"Let them out." The prisoners had been in cages, Iron Emmett and the man removed the locks. "You're Stark's bastard." One of the prisoners said, "He's your commander now." Emmett replied. Jon could feel the argument growing and quickly intervened, "Get them some cloaks and bring them to the training yard." A small while later Jon stood next to Emmett in his combat clothing, he was a tad out of practice himself and he wanted to hit something. He chose a longsword from the rack, not quite as long as Longclaw but it was familiar in his hand. "Pair yourselves off." He called, looking up at the archers he had placed as a precaution. He trusted Boltons as far Tyrion Lannister could jump. He took his place opposite his partner, a large man wielding a greatsword. That put them on even ground, Jon didn't have the reach but he was faster and less quick to tire. Jon dodged the first swing and pressed the attack, his opponent was struggling to cope with the length of his own blade and eventually Jon caught him on the side with the tip of his sword. The man yelled in fury and swung at him with a fist, Jon ducked and rolled, striking his leg as he went. He came up and caught the overhead swing aimed at his face. The force of the swing surprised him and he fell to one knee. The fury in the other man's eyes reminded him of when he first came to the Wall, he'd broken Grenn's nose during their first sparring match. Only the pain in his arms brought him back to reality, the sword was approaching his face, slowly but surely. Jon turned his body enough so that he could slide his sword away and jab at the other man's fingers. A roar of pain followed and suddenly his ribs exploded in pain as the man's boot collided with his body, winding him. All he could hear was men shouting and then he was being dragged away before something crashed into his eye.


	28. Unfortunate ears

The Small Council had just finished their meeting when a servant ran up to Robert, "Your Grace, your niece is here to see you." Robert frowned. "Shireen?" Tyrion asked. "Yes, Lord Tyrion, and her mother." Tyrion heard Robert curse, "Bring them in." Robert sat on the throne while Lord Stark took his place at his side. Tyrion remained at the Small Council table, he'd agreed to serve as an advisor until the time came to leave for Dorne. Shireen Baratheon and Selyse Florent approached the trio. Robert held up a hand as they started to kneel, "No need, you are my kin." They muttered their thanks and stood. "I hope you are well, Shireen." Lord Stark said, "I was sorry to hear of your loss." "Thank you, my lord Hand." Shireen replied timidly. "What appears to be the problem, my ladies?" Tyrion was curious about Selyse, she hadn't said a word yet. "We are here to speak about Stannis, and Dragonstone." Selyse finally spoke up. "So you received our message, then." Stark said, Shireen nodded. "May I ask why so many ships are needed?" Selyse didn't miss a beat. "The Night's Watch is moving their wildling guests to Skagos." Robert explained. "They need every ship they can muster." "Why not just call the banners and kill those savages while they are vulnerable?" "Neither my son nor the Lord Commander would ever agree to that." Lord Stark cut in. "Is there anything else?" Robert asked.

Selyse shuffled her feet slightly. "Yes. As you know Shireen is Stannis' daughter and heir." Tyrion didn't see the point of that statement. "Stannis was your eldest brother, your grace..." Tyrion realised what she meant. "You want Storm's End." It wasn't a question. "You gave it to that prancing fool Renly as a slight and-" Robert interrupted her, "I gave Stannis Dragonstone at the advice of Jon Arryn, there were Targaryen loyalists in the household, Stannis was better equipped to deal with them than Renly. I never intended to slight him." "And you never told him." Tyrion pointed out. He stood and walked over to Shireen. She was wearing her hair over her scarred face, "You have a natural beauty, Shireen, don't let your face scare you." "Step away from my daughter, imp." Tyrion didn't dignify that with a reply, he just gave Selyse a look that could curdle milk. "T-thank you, my lord." Shireen replied. "Why do you care?" Tyrion smiled, "I have an affinity for cripples bastards and broken things. You can still find love, as I once did." He turned to the King and his Hand, both looking slightly flummoxed. "If I might suggest a solution, my lords, speak to Renly. He most likely won't ever have an heir, get him to name Shireen his heir. She'll have Storm's End and an actual claim to it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anybody is wondering why I didn't use Cripples Bastards and Broken things as the title, it's because I want to make the titles references to things that might not be obvious but are still related to the chapters.


	29. The Heart Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this universe, Theon isn't an asshole. Otherwise I'd have Ramsay do much worse to him than in the books. And that would ruin my whole plan. There will be a few jokes at the beginning for you to enjoy though!

Robb was sat in his chamber reading the accounts of the last crop when a knock at his door made him look up. "Enter." He called, a servant stepped in. "My lord, there is a man asking to see you." Robb nodded his assent and grinned as a familiar face appeared in the door. "I wasn't expecting you to come." Theon Greyjoy grinned back, "Robb Stark finally found a girl willing to have him? I wouldn't miss it for all the gold in Casterly Rock." "As opposed to all the whores in King's Landing?" He retorted jokingly and as Theon shrugged, hugged him fiercely. "It's good to see you, my friend." "And you too." They walked through the corridors to the yard. "So, Margaery Tyrell, eh?" Robb could only smile. "I suppose we'll be hearing cries of winter coming and growing strong." Theon jested, "And I imagine I'll receive a letter from Sansa in a few weeks telling me that you truly do squirt ink." Robb replied, raising an eyebrow as Theon spluttered, "Is it true you once spoke of replacing your manhood with a wooden replica ten times bigger?" Theon blushed at that, which was a rare occurrence in itself. "I was tremendously drunk at the time." The two continued to the yard, exchanging friendly barbs until Theon suddenly grew serious. "Your father wrote to me about the Iron Fleet." "I had meant to ask you about that at Sansa's wedding." Robb had not been anticipating this conversation. "What is the problem?" Robb took a deep breath, "We need as many ships as we can muster, the fleets of Dragonstone and The Arbor have deployed all the ships that they don't need but the Lord Commander tells me that it isn't even close to enough. How capable are your ships of getting to Skagos?" Theon looked at Robb with a mixture of shock and horror. " _Skagos?!_ Robb, when I received the request I thought it was for trading with Essos, not suicide." He shook his head, "The Iron Fleet is not mine to command, I can send them forth but I can't stop them from changing their minds. Every captain is a king aboard his own ship. This is madness." Robb nodded his head solemnly, "I understand."

Margaery was with Sansa and her maids making the final touches to her wedding dress when a knock at the door, a maid answered and nodded before turning. "Lady Sansa, your brother is here to see you." Sansa stood up, grumbling yet gracious, and walked out. "You look lovely, my lady." Jeyne Poole cooed as she helped with the fastenings of her dress. Margaery had to agree, her dress was a mass of green and gold silks, though she had insisted that there be grey slashed in there as well as the furs, which were also grey, to respect the house she was to join. "It is nice to see Sansa slightly more cheerful." Jeyne continued, Margaery nodded. Sansa had been angry with Robb over their mother and Margaery was worried that Robb would eventually snap. "I think that it was the bastard." Jeyne said, Margaery frowned "Bolton's bastard?" "Jon Snow." That made Margaery turn. "Jon had every right to be angry with Lady Stark, after the way she treated him. His commander once told him that singers would write of Robb's every little deed while his greatest achievements will be forgotten. He rose high and for that, he paid the price. His life, his prospects, his dreams. He's lived all the stories your parents told you to keep you well-behaved as children and all he got in return was scorn because he cares, don't you think he has a right to be bitter?" Margaery gave the girl a piercing look, "If you speak ill of Jon Snow in either my ears or Robb's, you may find life difficult here, my lady."

A few hours later, the bride was led into the godswood, accompanied by her brother. By the heart tree, beyond the crowd, stood Robb and Gendry who, as crown prince, would preside over the ceremony. Margaery beamed at him and saw Robb's eyes gleam as he admired her. Gendry cleared his throat and began. "Who comes before the old gods this night?" "Lady Margaery, of House Tyrell, a woman flowered and of noble birth and blood, comes here to be married. Who takes her?" Garlan replied. Robb stepped forward, "I do, Robb, of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Who gives her?" "Garlan, of House Tyrell, who is her brother." Gendry turned to Margaery, "Lady Margaery, will you take this man?" "I will take this man." Margaery stepped forward to stand next to Robb, who turned to face her. "Mother, Maiden, Crone. Father, Smith, Warrior, Stranger. I am his and he is mine, from this day until the end of my days." They completed their vows together and when they finished, leaned in to kiss as the crowd cheered on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was going to be longer but I changed my mind so part 2 will be coming soon.


	30. Let us bed them

The wedding feast was the grandest affair Robb had been to in his life, though he imagined that it was fairly modest compared to Margaery's experience, being from Highgarden of all places. First came the gifts, mainly cloaks and furs for Margaery, though before Robb accepted his own gifts he stood and produced a small box he'd entrusted to Grey Wind. "Margaery, as you know, the North is not a place for flouting our wealth. We aren't rich in precious metals and our lands are cold, so I couldn't get anything particularly Highgarden-like, but I thought we should have something to embody our marriage." He opened the box and showed her the two rings inside before taking one out and holding out his hand. Margaery looked up at him with a teary smile and took his hand so that he could slip the ring on her finger, before she took the other ring and slipped it on his before embracing him and kissing his cheek. "Thank you, sweetheart." She whispered in his ear. Robb shook his head and responded "It is our wedding, Margaery, there is nothing to thank me for." The rest of the room applauded and whistled, before Robb sat to accept his own gifts despite his discomfort with the situation. 

This was the polar opposite, very few physical items, instead, the lords reaffirmed their loyalties to Robb as Lord of Winterfell. Gendry stood and declared that under his reign, the North would never go needy, to applause from the assembled lords and Robb himself, who in turn swore that he would support Gendry as the rightful heir to the throne. Theon also vowed that under his and Sansa's rule, the Iron Islands would remain firm friends with the people of the North and that he hoped that with time, the rifts between the Ironborn and the Northmen could one day heal before approaching Robb and promising to speak with his captains. Robb had stood and embraced Theon, thanking him and affirming that they were brothers, both by marriage and friendship. He raised his eyebrows as Margaery and Garlan stood together, "Believe it or not, Robb, I faced a similar problem to you." Margaery began, "I was worried that you would be intimidated by anything from Highgarden." Garlan stepped forward and continued, "So Margaery and I decided that we would also give you a vow. I swear that I shall advise both my father and brother to never neglect the needs of the North or the Night's Watch and that you will always have my support, as a brother." "And I swear to always remain by your side and to help you rule as lord to the best of my ability," Margaery turned to the assembled lords, "I also promise, my lords, to always remain loyal to the North, if you ever have need of me, never hesitate to ask." This declaration was met with cheers from the crowd and Robb felt tears prick his eyes as he embraced Margaery and Garlan in turn, thanking them both with all his heart. "Well, I think that's quie enough faffing around now," Robb's voice seemed alien to himself, "Let us eat!"

The food served was a combination of southron and northern tastes, so there was something for everyone to try. He and Margaery spent the feast daring each other to try a dish until Robb noticed Gendry's reaction to the Dornish peppers and conceded victory. Unbeknownst to them, a food train from the Reach had followed Margaery from Highgarden, though it had only arrived shortly before the feast itself, and had provided most of the southern catering. The music, despite Margaery, Sansa and his mother's meticulous planning, had soon become a collection of particularly drunk lords, headed by none other than the Greatjon and Theon Greyjoy themselves, blaring songs that would turn any septa deaf. Robb had jokingly joined in the singing of "Let me drink your beauty" for Margaery's benefit, eliciting laughs from the offending lords when suddenly they started to bang their fists on the tables.

Margaery felt a small sense of dread wash over her at the thought of what would happen next, though she felt instantly reassured as Robb winked at her before standing, he waited for the cacophony to die down before speaking. "I know that some of the lords here may be jealous... of my wife." Margaery covered her mouth in shock as she laughed with the rest of the lords in the room, Gendry and Theon seemed to have somehow simultaneously snorted their wine up their noses while Sansa looked on with disapproval and Bran and Rickon looked around with curiosity written on their faces. "But there will be no bedding ceremony." Robb allowed that to sink in before continuing, "Did you know that the Old King once tried to ban the tradition of the bedding ceremony?" Margaery could see confusion spreading across the audience, herself included, " But he was shot down by his lords." Why is he bringing this up now? "A pity Jahaerys did not have such leal bannermen as you, my lords." And it was that, he had caught them hook line and sinker. Robb was ordering the bedding cancelled and he was using their own vows against them to do so. Margaery smiled knowingly as he offered his hand to her, and without another word, led her from the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't decided whether or not to do a sex scene and if I do, it will probably be the only time. I gave this fic an Explicit rating to allow for violence, I don't feel comfortable writing sex scenes so if you're here for smut, this is not the place to be.


	31. I'll geld you, I swear it

Tyrion was enjoying dinner with Tommen and Myrcella when a servant came in with a message from Casterly Rock and whispered in his ear "Lord Stark asked me to inform you that your armour has arrived." Tyrion took the letter and thanked the servant. "Tommen, Myrcella, it seems that we will be headed for Dorne on the morrow." He said as he opened the letter. "But Uncle, we haven't been able to see the sights." Tommen piped up. Tyrion smiled sadly. "I'm sorry Tommen but this trip is necessary. Listen, the sooner we go to Dorne, the sooner we reach Winterfell and the sooner we reach Winterfell the sooner I can finish my business with Lord Stark and the sooner we can come back." That seemed to satisfy Tommen, Tyrion felt a pang of affection for his new heir. So innocent and kind in spite of his past. Myrcella also surprised him every day, she was what Cersei should have been, beautiful, generous, tender. His smile soon turned sour as he read the message from Bronn. Rage washed over him and he clenched his fist so tightly he could see the white in his knuckles and counted to ten mentally. He stood from his chair and took some parchment and a quill from the desk. Joffrey had crossed the line, he'd attacked a pregnant serving girl and killed her child. Tyrion had lost all patience, he'd given fair warning and more than fair chance. Joffrey didn't deserve any kind of compromise but he'd get a choice, he could be gelded or sent to the Wall. He sealed the letter and gave it to another servant to deliver with haste. Joffrey would choose the Wall, anything to save his skin, if they made good time to Sunspear he could meet Bronn at the Crossroads Inn. "What's wrong, uncle?" Myrcella asked. "It appears that your brother may very well be coming north with us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anybody have a suggestion on who I should pair Shireen with? I don't want to use Rickon Stark because that's been used to much.


	32. The Old Way

Robb rolled off of Margaery, both of them were panting slightly. "I was worried for a second." He said, "I thought I'd hurt you." Margaery chuckled, "You just exhausted me, dear. That's all." Robb smiled and kissed her before turning over closing his eyes with his new wife in his arms. "You were briliant in the hall." Robb looked at her and shook his head. "I just didn't want to embarrass you, my love. Thank Jahaerys for providing the precedent!" They both laughed at that. 

The next morning, the newly-weds joined the Starks for breakfast. Sansa seemed rather enthusiastic about the bedding though Margaery refrained from giving explicit details with children around while Robb gave a bemused smile. "Theon Greyjoy." The guard announced as the Lord of the Iron Islands entered the room. Theon leaned over the table and said, "I need to speak to you, your mother and Sansa." Robb raised an eyebrow, "Ten minutes, my study."

"Mother." Robb's voice made Catelyn look up. "Robb. How are you?" He simply shrugged and sat on the bed. "How are things with Margaery?" Robb smiled softly, "Good, we're fine." "I hear you escaped the bedding ceremony with flying colours." That made Robb go slightly red. "Tell me you did consummate the marrriage." Robb somehow went even redder and nodded "Yes, we did." Something else was on Robb's mind. "Robb, if you're here to talk about Jon I-" "That's not it, Theon wanted to speak to us about Sansa." Catelyn sat up, relief washing over her. "But if you must know about what I have in mind for you, you still must leave Winterfell or the lords might think me weak. Go to Riverrun once we return from Pyke, I'll send you a raven giving you permission to return here. As of now, you can leave your chambers but we need to see Theon now." "Thank you." Catelyn stood and hugged her son.

Robb entered his study with his mother at his side, raising an eyebrow when he noticed Margaery sitting in the chair next to his. She noticed, "Robb, I'm your wife. It's my duty to support you." Robb nodded and sat opposite Theon and Sansa. "What's the matter?" Theon took a breath, "Sansa, were you named in the Light of the Seven?" "She was." His mother answered, "As were all of my children." Theon nodded gravely. "You see, that creates a problem. I spoke to the Damphair before I left and he insisted that Sansa convert to worship the Drowned God." "Wait, who is the Damphair?" Margaery asked. "My uncle, Aeron Greyjoy." Theon explained, "He is the holiest living priest on the Islands. He was washed up after his ship sank, suddenly very pious." "What was he like beforehand?" Theon smiled sadly. "Much like Robert and Tyrion were before the Lannisters rebelled, he was my favorite uncle." "Why is it such an issue for Sansa to convert, she has my consent to do whatever she likes regarding her own religion." Robb knew as little about worship of the Drowned God as Margaery did. "Because he insists that Sansa be drowned."

Robb and Sansa went very pale and Catelyn looked like she was about to faint, or throw up. Margaery put her hand on Robb's shoulder to reassure him that she was there. "It is as it was in the Old Way, Aeron has always pushed for a return to traditions of old." "Well, perhaps you should remind him that times have changed. The Old Way died with Harren and his sons, it died with the dragons." Theon shook his head. "You think I haven't discussed this with him already? He won't change his mind and I dare not lose his support. Robb, Aeron has drowned hundreds of men and never lost a single one, Sansa will be in the best possible hands." "Just because an apple falls from a tree a hundred times out of a hundred does not mean it will fall on the one hundred and first." Robb retorted. Margaery had had enough. "I think we should let Sansa decide." Robb and Theon immmediately stopped and turned to Sansa, who had tears in her eyes as she stood. "I'll do it." She squeaked and to the astonishment of Margaery and Catelyn, stepped towards Theon and kissed him. "What is dead may never die." She recited and Theon replied "What is dead may never die, but rises, harder, stronger." 


	33. Young love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few chapters ago, I asked for suggestions on who to pair Shireen with. The feedback so far makes Edric Dayne the most likely candidate though it will be a while before I implement that part of the story.

After a few rounds of passion, Robb and Margaery lay in each others arms. Margaery ran her hand over Robb's scarred body. "So, Theon and Sansa, how long?" Robb shrugged. "He came to Winterfell after Casterly Rock fell. He saved hundreds of lives that day." Margaery turned so she lay on her front on top of his chest, "What did he do?" She asked inbetween kissing his torso. "He disobeyed his father's orders and took a small fleet to Lannisport. They boarded the Lannister capital ship and took the bay for us." "So you invited him north." Robb smiled, "I did. Sansa was infatuated and Theon asked for her hand." Robb's voice betrayed a hint of sadness, she had seen that when he recounted the war. It wasn't the battles, it was something else... "Robb, was there someone else?" Robb looked at her for a moment, not speaking. Margaery held her gaze until he broke and admitted. "Yes. There was." 

"Who was she?" "Her name was Talisa, she was from Volantis." "What was she doing in a war?" Robb felt tears threaten to spill from his eyes. "She was a battlefield medic. When she was a child, her brother nearly drowned but he was saved by a slave and she swore that she wouldn't live her life in luxury while others suffered." Margaery smiled, "She sounds like a remarkable woman." Robb nodded. "Aye, she was." Talisa's face had haunted his dreams for months after he'd returned from the fighting. "What happened?" Robb turned away. "I don't want to talk about it."

Margaery straddled him and leaned over him with a serious expression. "Robb Stark, I am your wife. Even Tywin Lannister was ruled by his wife." If Robb was angry, he didn't show it. Instead he smiled, "I suppose he was." He laughed as he took her hands in his before becoming serious. "She was stabbed in the belly by a Frey." Margaery's eyes widened as she gasped. "Robb, I'm so sorry." Robb shook his head. "It's fine." Margaery was confused. "Weren't the Freys on your side?" "Walder Frey never called his banners." Robb relied bitterly. "But some of the Freys sided with the Lannisters, Ser Emmon Frey was Tywin's goodbrother after all. Talisa died during an ambush, she was transporting wounded men back to our camps when they jumped her group. She fought to the end." Margaery's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry. I just felt jealous." She whispered. "It's alright, my love. I think I would feel the same." "How did the king respond?" "Oh, I think he sent the surviving Freys who fought to the Wall and gave Walder Frey a few choice words." Margaery kissed him. "Well I have a few choice words for you."


	34. The Two Towers

A knock at the door made Ned look up. "Grand Maester." He greeted. "My lord Hand, the King would like to speak to you." Maryn responded.

When Ned entered Robert's chambers, the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms was sitting at his desk pouring a glass of wine with a small smile on his face. "Drink." He commanded as Ned sat. Ned had never overindulged on drink so he merely sipped, it was the finest Arbor gold. It was only then that he noticed the message in Robert's hand, Robert saw him look. "Walder Frey is dead, and good riddance." Though Ned shared the sentiment he simply nodded. "Who inherits the Twins?" Robert thought for a second. "Stevron. Perra Royce's son." Ned nodded, " A good man, unlike his father. I believe he spoke out against Walder's disloyalty." "We need to make sure that he won't follow in his father's footsteps and neglect his liege." Ned snorted. "Isn't Varys the one you want to talk to about that?" Robert sighed. "Actually, I had someone else in mind. Someone going north." "I can't help you with that," Ned knew exactly what he meant. "But I travel to Pyke in a few days."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter seems laclustre but I had a little writer's block.


	35. Balerion

Tyrion had been overseeing the final preparations for the journey south and was taking a break with his niece and nephew when somebody knocked on the door. "Shireen." He said in greeting as the girl stepped into the room, "What is it?" Shireen licked her lips and took a deep breath, "Can I join you while you go south?" Tyrion glanced at Tommen and Myrcella, who nodded fervently, they wanted some company that was their age. "I don't have a problem with that. Does your mother know?" Shireen shook her head, "I want to get away from her, she never lets me do anything and I want to see the world." Tyrion smiled, "I know the feeling, your mother should meet up with my sister and compare notes." That made Shireen chuckle. "Tell you what, I can take you to Storm's End on the way back from Dorne, we're taking a ship to Sunspear and returning via the Kingsroad." She nodded enthusiastically and Tyrion extended a hand, "Welcome aboard."

Having informed Lord Stark of his newest passenger and the loading of his cargo, Tyrion was just paying the men who had helped them load the ship when he noticed a cat moving toward the ship. Tommen had also noticed and was approaching it. "Tommen, stop!" He yelled at his nephew and grabbed a fish from a nearby basket, the cat had a torn ear and looked black as death. "Balerion." he called, Balerion turned to him and saw the fish. He growled and pounced, Tyrion dropped the fish as the thrice-damned cat nearly took his fingers. He reached out and stroked Balerion, clicking his tongue. Balerion froze for a moment before rubbing his head against his hand. Chuckling Tyrion muttered under his breath, "So you're the one who stole that quail from my father, thank you for making my day." He grabbed another fish and dropped it next to the other one, Balerion took them both and ran away.

"Why did you do that?" Myrcella looked genuinely curious as Tyrion stepped onto the boat. "Cripples, bastards and broken things. That cat was a broken thing." Tyrion sat down before continuing, "Balerion belonged to Rhaenys Targaryen. Rhaegar's daughter." "Why does that matter?" Tyrion sighed. "Because it watched Rhaenys die. She was hiding under her bed with Balerion during the Sack of King's Landing, when Armory Lorch found her, he didn't find her cat. Rumour has it Balerion's heart broke, that he went mad."


	36. The Damphair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to do a time lapse to stop the story getting boring.

Margaery stepped off of the boat after her husband, slightly unsteady having been on a ship for the past few days. "My sea legs never were very good!" She heard Robb laugh to Gendry, Margaery gave a small smile herself. Pyke was a strange place, like Theon had mentioned that it wasn't so much an island as a group of islands connected by wooden bridges. Sansa and Theon seemed to have fared the best, neither faced problems with seasickness or sea legs. Sansa seemed to be enjoying the weather, which surprised Margaery more than anything though she could understand, she had come to love the snow and cold of the north (not least because it allowed her to snuggle up to Robb more) that she had initially disliked.

Ned saw his family disembark and trudged over with Arya and Nymeria to greet them. "Robb, Gendry!" He heard Arya almost squeal in the girliest display he could have expected from Sansa, let alone Arya Stark. Ned smiled as he embraced his wife and youngest son, "It's good to see you all, my love." He muttered to his wife. "You too, Ned." Catelyn replied, "Arya seems happy." Ned chuckled, Arya looked like she was going to burst. "Robb." He called his son over. Margaery came over as well, holding Robb's hand. "Father, this is Margaery." Ned nodded to his newest daughter, "My lady, I apologise for our last meeting but I was preparing for the journey south." "Not to worry, Lord Stark, I will be having words with my father when I see him next." He could see that Robb was enchanted with his new wife and that he enchanted her as well. He was proud of his son in that regard. "It's good to see you are happy together but have you...?" Robb laughed and blushed at the same time. "Well, we weren't going to say until Margaery started to show but..." Ned smiled "Congratulations! I'm proud of you, son."

Gendry was shocked at Arya's reaction to seeing him but he hugged her warmly and kissed her forehead. "Hello to you too." He chuckled, grunting as Arya gave him a playful punch in the stomach. "Don't kiss me!" She chuckled back, trying to sound stern. Gendry bowed his head, "Yes m'lady." That got him another punch but this time he caught it and kissed her hand. 

Robb and the rest of the family joined Theon and Sansa as they approached the men waiting for them by the shore line. "My lords, my ladies," Theon began, "May I introduce my uncles Aeron and Victarion," both nodded, "And my good friend Dagmer Cleftjaw. Gentlemen, Robb Stark and his wife, Lady Margaery. Lord Eddard Stark and his wife Lady Catelyn. Prince Gendry Baratheon and his betrothed Arya Stark. Brandon and Rickon Stark, Lord Eddard's sons, and finally my betrothed, Sansa." Aeron stepped forward. "Kneel nephew, Lady Sansa." Theon nodded to Sansa and they complied. "Oh, lord our god who drowned for us, let your servants Theon and Sansa be reborn from the sea. Bless them with salt, bless them with stone, bless them with steel." The Damphair uncorked a skin and upended it on the couple, pouring salt water on them. "Rise." He turned to Sansa, "Do you know our words?" Sansa nodded, "What is dead may never die." "What is dead may never die but rises again, stronger, harder."


	37. The Drowned God wants them drowned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how tempted I was to have "Why are alll the gods such viscious cunts?" as the title.

Arya knew that something was up when her family, betrothed and soon-to-be in laws gathered for Sansa's wedding, along with some bald men she didn't know. Mother and Father looked pale and Margaery seemed to be constantly reassuring Robb of something. She liked Margaery, even if she was a bit flowery, Robb was grinning like an idiot when she whispered something in his ear. Arya knew that he wouldn't have reacted like that if she really were some little daisy, blowing wherever the wind went. She seemed like a perfect example of the life she wanted, to be free and independent, to not have to sit and let her husband talk for her. It was the life she wanted with Gendry. A year ago she would have happily killed any husband who forced himself on her, yet Gendry didn't. He waited, with those stupid, perfect blue eyes, square jaw, muscular frame. The sort of person she didn't know whether to punch or to

Kiss her, that was what Gendry wanted. He _wanted_ her. He knew that she felt ugly, that she would only be appreciated as a brood mare unless she fought the system. Gendry wanted her to know that she was beautiful, just like Sansa. 

Robb had the largest lump in his throat that he'd ever had in his life, he knew his parents felt the same. He'd already informed his father of what Theon had said. Robb himself had been trying to distract himself with the thought of his child but even that and Margaery's soothing words had done little to reassure him.

Arya had almost collapsed in shock when she saw Sansa. _Sansa Stark_ had come to her own wedding wearing clothes clearly meant for a man. Her sister walked through the crowd to where Theon and Dampballs stood, knee deep in brown water. Sansa whispered something to Theon before kissing his cheek and kneeling. Okay, what the fuck in the name of all the gods is that and what has it done with my sister? Then Dampballs put his hand on one shoulder while Theon held on to the other. Without a word they pushed Sansa under. _"Sansa! No! You'll kill her!"_ Arya felt hands grab her as she struggled, turning to her father and Robb. _"Father! Stop them! Robb! Please!"_ She screamed as Gendry hauled her away.

Robb remained still as a statue as Arya screamed and pleaded, listening to her being dragged away by Gendry. "Oh lord our god who drowned for us. Let your servant Sansa be reborn of the sea, as a true rock wife, so she may reave alongside her husband through this world to your watery halls. Bless her with salt, bless her with stone, bless her with steel." The Damphair intoned before lifting Sansa's lifeless form from the water. He thumped her on the chest while they looked on. "Aeron." He recognized Theon's voice but there was no warmth there, only wrath. Aeron continued to thump her on the chest before turning Sansa over and repeating the same exercise on her back. She remained still. "Aeron." Theon's voice was slightly raised. The priest gave Sansa the kiss of life before sagging, " _No._ " Robb stepped forward, knocking one of Damphairs thrawls out of his way. "Even the holies-! Aeron began before Theon kicked him in the face and bent over Sansa, performing the same exercises his uncle had just a few second earlier. Through the blood rushing to his ears Robb heard his mother sobbing. One of the thrawls stepped forwards but Theon pointed at him, "One more step and I'll make your journey to the Drowned God last years." He warned before returning to his efforts. Robb felt Margaery wrap her arms around him and turned to embrace her. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he held his wife tight, the only that brought him to his senses was a splutter and Sansa sat bolt upright.


	38. A horn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I wouldn't but I wrote a smut chapter and here it is!

Gendry dragged Arya to the small keep and pinned her to the wall, she was sobbing in desparation. "Gendry, please, please. She'll die..." Arya shook with sobs. Gendry leaned forward so that their noses almost touched, "No, she won't. Theon and Robb would never let that happen." "They can--" Gendry kissed her to shut her up, he kissed her tenderly yet firmly. Not letting go, he pulled her into his arms and grasped her hips. He was so overwhelmed that he took a second to notice she was kissing him back. His hand rose higher, tracing her waist and holding her upright.

Without thinking, Arya took Gendry's hand and placed it over her clavicle while she cupped his face. When they pulled away they were both panting. Arya felt something twist inside her, is this what love is? No wonder Robb had been so happy with his wife, she'd been missing out! She kissed him again, feeling bolder now. She bit his lip and unlaced a part of her top so that she was exposed to Gendry, she expected to feel embarassed but she only felt desire as she fiddled with his breeches. "Take me." She whispered, moaning as Gendry rubbed her thigh. "We should wait f-" She silenced him by pushing her hand into his breeches and rubbing him. "Take me, now." Gendry looked at her for moment before grinning, "Aye, m'lady." She felt so hot as he kissed her bare shoulder before he stood up again and kissed her hard as he obeyed. He lifted her into the next room and locked the door. Arya pulled her arms out of her tunic, throwing it away, kicked off her shoes and bent down to shove her breeches and smallclothes off her shapely legs, stepping forward. Her head rolled back and she groaned as he kissed her breast, running her hands through his hair. This man should be fattening at least. She giggled as she realised that he would be at this rate, the idea didn't enrage her at all. 

Gendry's hands ran over Arya's body, he couldn't resist her now, not like this. He pushed her up against a wall. Her legs wrapped around him, making him grunt, partly from the strength of her thighs and partly from arousal. Arya unbuttoned his shirt and he stripped off his breeches. She put her hand around his length and stroked for a few seconds before pushing herself against his tip. They both groaned loudly at the contact. Gendry gasped in surprise at how wet she was. He stared into her eyes and entered her, stopping as she sucked in a breath sharply in pain. Arya closed her eyes for a moment and leaned in to kiss him before rolling her hips to his. Her hands grasped at his shoulders and she lifted herself up and down, her moans getting louder and impossibly shrill. 

Gendry pushed away from the wall and laid her on the floor, not pulling away from her. She arched her back and pressed her chest up against him, her breath tickling his ear. He slid an arm underneath and held her there. Gendry started thrusting again, slowly building a rhythm and was close to losing control before she stopped him and looked at him, "You want me as a wolf, take me as a wolf." Gendry kissed her, letting his tongue and hers rub each other and dropped her. He stopped to admire her. She lay naked on the floor as her chest rose and fell, breasts stiff, lips parted, eyes bright and hair splayed around her head. Her tongue slipped out and wet her bottom lip. She looked like a goddess. 

Arya reached out, took his hand and squeezed. That was all the encouragement he needed. He placed a hand on her hip and rolled her onto her front. His other hand went to her chest and pulled her to her knees, leaning down to kiss the base of her spine just above her arse. She reached down and lined him up with her entrance. One hand on her breast, another on her hip, he pushed into her again. Arya arched her back and moaned loudly. Gendry's hand left her breast and slid up to her neck, turning her head. She kissed him breathlessly as his hand fell back and his thumb rolled over her nipple. It didn't take long for her groans to bring out the stag in him, he leaned back and rode her ferociously, making her scream while he squeezed her tit and hammered her.

Arya felt her release before Gendry as she shuddered and collapsed onto her elbows. It was the best sensation she'd ever felt in her life. Her jaw dropped open and she groaned for a last time. She breathed out and waited for Gendry to finish. He groaned as she clenched him inside her. He leaned down and kissed down her spine as he pulled out of her. Arya realised he hadn't fully finished and crawled around quickly. Before Gendry could ask what she was doing she took hold of him and took him in her mouth. She sucked for a few seconds and he groaned loudly, she tasted salt and started to swallow. Arya turned away and coughed. She caught her breath and looked up at Gendry timidly. He just stared at her. "What...?" He asked. "You weren't finished." She responded meekly. That sounded pathetic. Gendry didn't laugh, he just smiled and drew her into his arms. She rested her head against his chest, running her fingers along his bicep. "You know," she looked up at him, "maybe marrying you won't be too bad after all."


	39. Theon's Favorite Toy

Once Sansa had been carried back to the castle and put in a warm bed with Theon watching over her, Robb and Margaery went to find Arya and Gendry. Just as they rounded a corner towards their rooms when they came across a sight Robb never thought he would see. Arya was in Gendry's arms, crying, before she kissed him and shut the door. They hid as Gendry walked toward his own chamber, "Was that...?" Margaery didn't need to complete her question, Robb nodded. "You aren't crazy, I saw it too." He knocked on Arya's door, nobody responded. "Arya, I know you're in there." The door clicked open and Robb jumped back as Arya lunged at him, "You bastard!" She screamed as she punched him in the face. Robb caught her other fist as he fell. "Sansa's fine, Arya! She's with Theon!" Robb wheezed as Margaery helped him up, "He saved her." "He fucking drowned her!" "He didn't want to!" 

Margaery stepped between them, "He's telling the truth. Theon spoke to us about it at Winterfell and Sansa agreed to it, they love each other, Arya. Just as I love Robb and just as you seem to love Gendry." She was glad that Arya had calmed down, mostly due to Gendry, she suspected. Arya had gone an alarmingly bright shade of red, Margaery smiled at her sister-in-law. "I was just going to ask what had happened to Arya Stark when you punched me." Robb said in his joking voice. "Does this mean that you approve of your marriage?"

Arya knew that they'd be angry with her for what she'd done, so she nodded, not trusting her tongue or her voice. "Good, we should prepare for the feast."

 

The wedding feast held in the hall was a modest affair, yet appropriate for the traumatic day they'd all had. Theon and Sansa had agreed to forgo the bedding and that the consummation could wait if Sansa felt too unwell. That allowed Robb some peace of mind as he conversed with some of the northern lords attending the wedding, though the presence of Ramsay Snow was a blight on his mood. The Bastard of Bolton was watching Sansa with look in his eyes that made Robb feel uneasy so he'd left his sword just outside the hall should a problem emerge, his father was busy with the arrangements for the trip back to King's Landing and had only been able to stay briefly for the formalities. His mother was spending as much time with him as possible before they were separated again and she left for Riverrun. He saw Sansa stand and kiss Theon before leaving the hall to have an early night, but he also saw Ramsay follow her. Robb quickly found his wife and gave her a kiss before tapping Theon on the shoulder and pointing out Ramsay to him. Both men rushed to leave the hall, Robb grabbed his sword and Theon drew a dagger hidden in his sleeve and both followed Ramsay and Sansa.

"If you want a real man to warm you up after that, you should have me rather than that squid." He heard Ramsay slur. "No, let me go!" Robb saw red at that. "I'll fuck you raw, Stark bitch!" Ramsay cried out as Theon smacked him with the butt of his dagger. "Run!" He commanded Sansa. Ramsay headbutted Theon, sending him reeling, and produced a sword from somewhere. Robb knew Ramsay wasn't exceptional with a sword but he could still do some damage. Robb dodged him until Theon recovered and stabbed him in the shoulder. Ramsay screamed and Robb kicked his leg out from under him, the sword clattered on the floor. "I'll geld you for this!" Theon dragged a pleading Ramsay away.


	40. An arrow in the sun

Tyrion had always had a problem with sailing, seasickness wracked his body until they reached Sunspear, at which point he realised how fucking hot it was in Dorne. He had cut the sleeves off of a couple of tunics to make the heat bearable but now he had sunburns on his arms. The party receiving him consisted of a tall man armed with a wicked looking spear, while three women stood with him, each armed with a different weapon. Oberyn Martell and the Sand Snakes.

"Lannister." The Red Viper of Dorne was known his sharp spear and even sharper tongue, Tyrion would have paid good money form him to be locked in a room with Olenna Tyrell. "Prince Oberyn. I presume these are your daughters." "We have names, imp." The eldest and ugliest girl replied. "As do I." Tyrion kept his tongue in check, he gestured to his sister's children. "May I introduce Tommen and Myrcella Lannister and Lady Shireen Baratheon." "The incest bastards." "Bastards no more." Tyrion wanted to change the subject before something happened so he turned back to Obreyn. "My prince, I am here to see your brother, not trade barbs over the legitimacy of my family, if we could proceed?" Obreyn shrugged and Tyrion gestured to his men to unload his gifts.

"Lannister." Why is everybody playing the noun game today? "Prince Doran, Prince Trystane. This is Tommen and Myrcella and Shireen Baratheon." Doran Martell looked ten years older than he actually was, wheelchair-bound, diminutive, yet as sharp in mind as Tyrion's father. "I have brought Gregor Clegane and Armory Lorch to you, as promised." Doran betrayed no emotion yet Tyrion could sense his relief. He has carried this burden for decades, he reminded himself. The crown did nothing to help him, it's not unreasonable that he would be bitter. "May I introduce my brother's paramour, Ellaria Sand." A tall woman with black hair and a whiff of exotic flair walked into the room to kiss Obreyn and embrace her daughter. "My lady." Tyrion bowed before turning back to Doran, "My prince, my men are unloading my prisoners now. If we might proceed, I have urgent business in the riverlands and the North." Oh, shit. Tyrion had forgotten that the Martells despised the Starks, particularly Lyanna. "Then we shall proceed." An enormous man stepped from behind Doran to wheel his chair around and push him to the lounge, where a beautiful woman was waiting. Arianne Martell. 

Once Tyrion was sat with a glass in his hand, Doran began. "Lord Tyrion, I must thank you for the vengeance you have allowed us. My family has petitioned the Baratheons to avenge Elia since her death." Tyrion shook his head. "It is I who must thank you, Prince Doran. You have given me the chance to prove my commitment to our common struggle, justice. My father should have ridded himself of the Cleganes years ago, as should Robert and Jon Arryn. I hope that the Martells and the Lannisters might be firm friends as your mother and mine were. We are stronger united, which is why I offer the hand of my niece to your younger son." Myrcella seemed to be quite happy sitting next to Trystane, both had been talking like old friends before both froze at the suggestion. Doran traded a look with Arianne and Trystane, who nodded almost imperceptibly. "She is Cersei as she should have been. She is beautiful, has the kindest heart of any woman I have known and she has flowered." Myrcella blushed at the praise. "How do you know she won't turn out like her mother?" Oberyn looked doubtful. "I trust her." Trystane's announcement made Doran raise an eyebrow. "Then you consent?" "I consent, father." Myrcella looked like was going to burst, "I consent as well." Doran smiled for the first time, "Then they are betrothed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found this chapter really challenging for some reason, so sorry if it isn't as good as some of the others.


	41. 700 feet

Jon's head felt like it would split. Sam had warned him that he'd be outstripped by Denys Mallister in a running race if he kept being injured. "Two dagger wounds, four arrows, one hawk and now this." The last wound, a stray stone had been kicked, almost taken his eye and left an enormous scar on his temple. It itched rather ferociously and the ointment Sam applied to help it burned like the seven hells, so Jon was left in constant discomfort. Though he tried not to let it affect him, Jon felt remarkably irritable and it seemed to show. 

The man who had been sparring with him, Jack, had apologised profusely for the incident. Jon had laughed and replied "If we held grudges for things that happen during training I would have died long before I went North. Take Grenn, for example, I broke his nose the first day we got here, now he's one of my best friends." He had found Jack quite amiable when compared to his comrades, Jon suspected that he'd been forced to participate in the death of Janos Slynt and suffered the consequences. The other Bolton men had proven another matter entirely, they were insolent, petty and just wouldn't listen. 

That breakfast, Jon had overheard them complaining that the white walkers were fairy tales and the Watch cowards. "Is that what you believe?" Jon stood. "Is it?" "Show us a white walker, then." One of them demanded. "Fine by me, the gate's that way." Jon pointed to the door and leaned forward. "Come back when you're convinced." That made all but one of them stand down. "Why don't you go, bastard? Or are you too craven?" Ah, the irony. Jon chuckled quietly. "If you think the only thing out there is the wildlings, you're an idiot." He stepped down. "You think you're clever, think about it. Even before the Wall was built we had stone castles that would have kept the wildlings out just fine. So why, 8000 years ago, did Brandon the Builder decide to build a wall of ice that was 700 feet tall?"


	42. A falling star

The feast to announce the betrothal of Myrcella to Trystane was a far cry from any feast Tyrion had ever attended. Snake heads, chillies the size of pears and purple olives were among the food to be enjoyed. He couldn't help but smile as he watched Tommen and Myrcella try the various dishes. Myrcella and Trystane fed each other little bites of each course, smiling all the while, Tommen spluttered beside him. "You ate one of the peppers, didn't you?" Tyrion had warned them both about the peppers, advising them to take them with other things and with milk. Tommen nodded, wiping his eyes, muttering an apology. "Well, now you know what not to do next time." Tyrion said gently, pouring his nephew a glass of milk. 

Tyrion looked around and saw Shireen giggling with a man bearing the arms of House Dayne, he stood and walked over to them. "Who is your new friend?" Shireen blushed slightly and the man responded "Edric Dayne, Lord Tyrion." "Ah, the Sword of the Morning." Ser Edric Dayne had served alongside Beric Dondarrion during the siege of Lannisport, he had been among the first through the walls of Casterly Rock and had saved The Lighning Lord's life after he'd taken a serious wound at the hands of Preston Greenfield, killing the former Kingsguard in single combat. For those deeds, he'd earned the title that his uncle, Ser Arthur, had held and with it, Dawn. "I was wondering if I could take Shireen to Starfall, my lord." Tyrion grinned at the knight, "That's not my decision to make. Shireen can do what she likes, she is a woman grown." The Lady of Dragonstone's face brightened. Tyrion laughed, "I can send a message to your uncles and mother so they don't worry."


	43. He stands before you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of things. I'm sorry that these updates are becoming sparse but there is just so much happening right now, I'm back at school, it's half-term now but I will be going back in a few days. To be brutally honest, I've wanted to write this chapter and more for a little while but every time I sit down to write I just go "I don't want to." I really am sorry about that but I'm under a lot of stress at the moment so please be patient with this fic, I still am committed to it and I promise that you will know when it is done. On a more celebratory note, 100 kudos! Thank you so much for reading and indeed enjoying the ramblings of a bored guy trying to find a way to kill time.

Tyrion and Tommen shared a tearful farewell with Myrcella at the gates of Sunspear, she had come to him to say that she wanted to stay in Dorne and Tyrion had given her the same response that he had Shireen. "I'll miss you." Tommen still had to be almost pried from his sister, his constant companion and in many ways protector from their depraved family. But he needed to grow, he was almost a man. "Tommen, come." He said gently, holding out a hand. Tommen took it tearfully. Tyron turned to Doran. "My prince, thank you for your hospitality, and cooperation. I wish you all the best with your new... companions." The Prince of Dorne nodded, "And thank you, my lord. For putting my sister's spirit to rest. The Westerlands are in good hands. Your niece will be loved, I am sure."

"The Prince's Pass." Tyrion said to his nephew, "Where the Young Dragon was murdered." He wanted Tommen to see the places spoken of in the histories of the Seven Kingdoms, this was a start. It had been a long trek through Dorne, endless sand and sun. Privately Tyrion wondered why so many Targaryens had fixated over Dorne for so bloody long, except Aegon IV, oh, the women of Dorne was famously wanton. The sound of horses made Tyrion look up. The group approaching didn't seem to notice them there. His horse floundered as they passed. "Fucking Dornish!" One of his soldiers yelled as he almost fell, Tyrion was about to check on Tommen when his horse reared and threw him down the dune they had climbed.

Tyrion rolled down the sand dune, coming to a stop at the bottom. He spat some sand out of his mouth, rubbing his eyes. Looking around, Tyrion brushed himself down, coughing. "Lord Tyrion?" "I'm alright." Tyrion squinted in the light, something in the sand catching his eye. No, it can't be, it was lost. He struggled over and fell to his knees next to the object sticking out of the sand. Black. With rubies, a circlet of valyrian steel. The crown of Aegon the Conqueror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, by the way. I need baby names for Robb and Margaery. Both genders are up for consideration, so anything goes.


	44. Die Forelle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm toying with the idea of sending one of the characters to meet Dany rather than my original plan, it might stretch the story slightly but it's just an idea at this point.
> 
> I also need to expalin where this story will go in the next few chapters, basically the next section will be mainly Robb, Tyrion and Margaery POVs with some Catelyn and Jon thrown in for good measure. I want to warn you that there will be at least implied non-con though how far it goes I don't know yet.
> 
> Baby names for Robb and Margaery are still needed, please don't leave me hanging.  
> I don't have that many ideas.

Despite the efforts of Margaery and her in laws to convince Robb to change his mind, the day had finally arrived that Lady Catelyn had to depart for Riverrun. Robb may have been one of the best strategic minds in Westeros and indeed one of the best soldiers but he was too preoccupied with what his supporters thought of him. "Robb, you can't let people who have no say in family matters influence your decision like this." That made Robb look at her in a way that reminded her of the man she met the day she came to Winterfell, cold. Margaery wanted nothing more than for the Robb she loved to come back, so she sat with him in councils, in audiences, she watched him train, giving him smilies and supporting looks. She was starting to worry that their child might be the only to bring him round. Her belly had grown significantly and she knew Robb was trying to hide the smile in his eyes when she put his hand there to feel their baby kick.

A knock on the door of their chamber brought Margaery out of her reverie, "My lady?" Maester Luwin stuck his head in the doorway. "Please, come in." Margaery found it impossible not to like the man after hearing exactly how much Robb cared for him. "I don't know where he is either." Robb had taken to disappearing for hours at a time, taking only Grey Wind with him. "A raven from the capital." He put the letter on the table. "I'll make sure he gets it." Luwin nodded, "How is the child, no problems?" Margaery smiled. "Nothing since you gave me that potion, thank you." Margaery had suffered from bouts of morning sickness early in the pregnancy. "Good, good." Margaery stood and went to the window, "Ah, there he is now."

"What on earth have you been doing?" Robb turned to face his wife as she picked a twig out of his hair. "Somebody," he looked at Grey Wind with an eyebrow raised, "decided to jump through a hedge and scare the living daylights out of me." He could swear the direwolf was grinning. Margaery giggled and kissed his cheek. Robb knew that the argument with the rest of his family had changed his behaviour somewhat and he was thankful that his wife was being so patient with him. "Oh, before we forget everybody else, there's a raven for you." She pulled an envelope from her dress, "From King's Landing." Robb took it with a odd sense of foreboding. He popped the seal and read the first few lines before grinning and kissing his wife, laughing. "What was that?" Robb couldn't keep the grin off of his face. Tyrion Lannister was coming to Winterfell.

Many miles south, Catelyn and her escort were making good time to Riverrun. She still felt stung by Robb's reaction even though she knew she deserved worse than a trip to see her brother and her home. "Lady Stark, now might be a good time to camp." The captain of her guard said, not unkindly. Catelyn had made her desire to make haste known from the start. She looked up and knew that he was right. She nodded and dismounted, drinking from a small skin of water. She took in her surroundings, feeling uneasy. It was probably just nerves, worrying about her forthcoming grandchild, her daughters, Ned. A faint gagging sound made her turn and she saw a guard with an arrow through his throat and felt something hit the back of her head and everything went dark.


	45. Maidenhead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Experimenting with a bit of sexual frustration, this ought to be interesting.

"You're still going to train with me, right?" That made Gendey look at her with a slight smirk, "Do I have a choice?" Arya smiled back, "Not really." Gendry scoffed and put Ice down. He'd been researching Valyrian Steel and had borrowed Lord Stark's greatsword for comparison. He picked up his own longsword quick enough to deflect a hit aimed at his backside by Arya, tutting quietly, "In the yard, m'lady." That earned him a whack over the head with Needle. "You're making fun of me!" She protested as he landed a hit of his own on her thigh. Gendry chuckled, "Alright, we can train later." Arya narrowed her eyes. "Stop being such a girl!" That made him scoff, "I'm not the one in a dress." It was true, for some unfathomable reason, Arya had started wearing dresses almost as revealing as Sansa's. Gendry had dropped a shield the first time she visited him in the forge, wearing a tight blue dress with a slightly dipped neckline. "None of my normal clothes keep me cool!" Gendry snorted loudly at that, quickly stealing a kiss from her as she opened her mouth to retort. 

Arya responded by wrapping an arm around his neck, guiding his hand to her leg with the other. Gendry lifted her and set her down on the floor. She deepened the kiss, rolling her hips slightly. She was about to tug the lace on her dress when Gendry pulled away, she leaned forward but he avoided her lips. She looked at him with an expression somewhere between hurt and confusion. She couldn't understand what was wrong with her, her body had taken it's time becoming more womanly but when it did she had grown as volopurous as Sansa, her mother or even Cersel Lannister were. As if he heard her silent question, Gendry spoke up. "It isn't you, Arya." "It must be. Why won't you ever...?" "Because I don't want to treat you like a whore!" She looked at him incredulously, "You think that just because you fucked me means you're treating me like a whore?" His silence was all the answer she needed. "We're betrothed anyway!" "I dishonoured you! I took your maidenhead! I could have got you with child! I even took you like you were a whore!" "My maidenhead was yours to take already! And even if it wasn't, I told you to take me that way!" There was somthing Gendry wasn't saying, there was something in his eyes. Finally, she understood. "You're scared of being like your father." It wasn't a question. "Gendry, the difference between you and your father is that you and I love each other as much as your father hated Cersei. You aren't paying me to love you like Robert did with your mother or any of his whores. You care about me and that's a big enough difference for anyone but especially for me." Her hands immediately went back to her laces as she kissed him again with all the passion she could muster. "If you don't want me now, we can at least make each other feel good. Oh, and don't worry about getting me with child, I made some moon tea for myself after last time."

Gendry was so surprised by her kiss that he couldn't even process what she'd said properly, only one question stood out in his mind. 

"Where in seven hells did you learn to make moon tea?"


	46. Lords Paramount

"We still don't have any names for him, or her." Margaery thought aloud as she lay in her husband's arms. Robb looked at her for a second before nodding. "You're right. In all the distractions I suppose we lost track of the most important thing in our family." He rested a hand on her stomach, Robb was so caring and sweet whenever they spoke about the baby that he looked like a puppy. Margaery already knew that he would be the best father any child could hope for. She had no doubt that their children would one day speak of Robb as Robb did his father. They thought for a few seconds, "Torrhen." Robb looked a bit teary at the suggestion. "Perfect. One of the wisest men in history and one of the bravest men I've ever known." He kissed her before raising an eyebrow. "Lyanna, or maybe Lyarra?" It was Margaery's turn to smile, "I think your father will appreciate that." They lay for a while before Robb spoke up again. "If we have twins..." Margaery giggled, "Don't be greedy, now." "I'm not being greedy!" Robb chuckled. She thought of old Tyrells. "Harlan? For a boy?" Robb didn't say anything so she explained quickly, "The first Lord Paramount of the Reach." "Ah, clever you. The first Lord Paramount of the North and the first Lord Paramount of the Reach... Nymeria?" "The Women in the North!" They both laughed at that.


	47. Where Men believe it resides

Ned was stood in the throne room, deep in thought. He turned towrds the Iron Throne, remembering the day King's Landing fell. He had marched into the throne room to find Jaime Lannister sat atop it, the Mad King's body sprawled at the foot of the stairs. "Don't worry, Stark. I'm just keeping it warm for our good friend Robert." The Kingslayer had finally met his match at Casterly Rock, nobody knew exactly how he'd died. All Ned knew was that he'd found Tyrion craddling his brother's corpse, still bandaged from his own injury.

"You know, Littlefinger would sit there," Varys had an uncanny ability to take everyone by surprise. "Staring at the throne, fantasising about how he would look sitting on it." "A throne made of the swords of the subjugated." Ned pointed out, Varys gave a girly snort. "It might as well be a throne made of the shit of the smallfolk to Littlefinger. Provided it is a throne, he will lust after it." Ned raised an eyebrow, "Where is he?" "That I cannot answer. Somewhere in the Riverlands or the Vale, currying favour with the Lords there, perhaps?" The Spider turned back to the throne. "The swords of Aegon's enemies, bent into one great monstrosity. Yet no Northern blade nor a Dornish." "Torrhen Stark was wise enough to see that the dragons had won, unlike Mern Gardner. He wanted to avoid a war, as do I. Winter is Coming." Varys chuckled, "Are you truly so naive that you think we're at peace, My Lord Hand? Make no mistake, my lord, war is coming as sure as winter, each with it's own glory and each it's own horror, at the heart of that war lies House Stark." Ned glanced at the eunuch. "Which war? There are so many." "The war for power, for the crown, for the Dawn." "Power and the crown are the same."

"Do you truly belive that? Where does power reside if the crown ceases to exist? What then? A septon would say true power lies with the gods, a soldier would say it resides with his general, the rich would say their wealth. Power resides where it is believed to reside, Lord Stark. The North is at a tipping point, war will brew there until it destroys everything. Your sons are in great danger, Danaerys Targaryen is coming with fire and blood, the Others are coming and the realm will tear itself apart if it isn't put right." Ned frowned, "And where do you believe power resides, Lord Varys? Who do you serve?" The Master of Whisperers simply smiled, "The realm." He turned to leave, "If you wish to know the danger your family faces, no ravens from Riverrun have been sent to Winterfell."


	48. Even bastards can rise high

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place over the entirety of Tyrion's journey north.

Tyrion sat in his carriage, staring at the crown. What am I going to do with this? He knew what his father would do, melt it down into a dagger and House Lannister would finally have Valyrian Steel. It had always irked Tywin that Brightroar had been lost and no replacement had been found. Lords would happily open their daughter's legs to a Lannister yet the instant Valyrian Steel swords were mentioned, no one would play ball. But then there was the fact that Tyrion had no need for a dagger, nor would any lord because size apparently mattered. The crown would fetch a handsome price, yet Tyrion was already among the richest men in Westeros even after the rebellion. If he made it public that he had the crown, the Dornish would accuse him of stealing it and that would put Myrcella in great danger. No, for now it would have to be kept secret. He poured himself a glass of strong Dornish wine, singing "The Dornishman's Wife" to himself. Tyrion and Prince Oberyn had sung it at the feast in Sunspear and the look on Myrcella and Trystane's faces had been priceless, since then it had become a joke among the Lannister men, singing it constantly around the campfire.

"My lord, The Crossroads Inn!" Tyrion sighed and put down his book. He stepped out of his carriage, turning to his men. "Don't get too comfortable, I want to make for the Twins as soon as possible." "That is if you can drag Bronn away from the whores!" Tyrion chuckled along with the rest of the men at Tommen's wit. Stepping into the inn, he did a quick search and sure enough Bronn was sat between two whores. "Bronn! Where is he?" The captain of the guard looked at him with an insolent smirk, Tyrion cut him off before he could proclaim himself king of the whores. "You can be king of the sword-swallowers if you want a crown!" The room filled with hoots, all directed at a rather crestfallen Bronn. "The stables." Tyrion nodded. "Finish up here, we leave within the hour." He stalked into the stables and found Joffrey chained to the wall. "Imp." "Bastard. You just couldn't stop yourself, could you?" "Unchain me! I am the rightful heir to Casterly Rock!" Tyrion snorted, "Last I checked, bastards cannot inherit. In any case, I was granted the Rock, Joffrey. I earned it. If I had considered you worthy, I would have asked Robert to legitimize you as he did your siblings. Not to worry, all past crimes are forgotten at the Wall, if you prove worthy there, you can rise high as Jon Snow and Cotter Pyke did."

"Lord Stevron." Tyrion greeted the new Lord of the Crossing. Stevron Frey was a man of nearly seventy years, the eldest of Walder's brood. "Lord Tyrion. May I ask what your purpose here is?" The Freys and the Lannisters had a somewhat rocky relationship, some of the Freys had been dragged into the rebellion by Emmon Frey and most of them had been killed. The survivors had been sent to the Wall. Most of the Freys had been indifferent, according to Tyrion's sources, but a few high-ranking Freys blamed the Lannisters for what they saw as a slight. "I am journeying north to meet with Robb Stark and then to the Wall to speak to their Commander." Frey nodded, "Are you prepared to pay the toll?" Despite everything, some of Walder's greed had apparently rubbed off on his eldest. "No, how silly of me. I forgot, might I offer this instead?" He held out a letter. Stevron took it with a frown. "From the Hand of the King." Frey opened the letter and read it, growing redder and redder before going a sickly pale. "You may pass." He croaked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next Tyrion POV will be at Winterfell.


	49. Here he comes

I have to get out. I want to run.

I sprint through the halls, watching the giants step aside, they think I'm dangerous but I won't hurt them. Unless they threaten the pack. I reach the door and pass through, into the place with the cobbled floor. I howl, and I hear them howl back. They are coming. 

Run, run, run. They follow, but I am the fastest, I always was. I stop to sniff the air, cold, refreshing. In the dark, the fog, the _snow_ , something cracks. A twig, and the smell... _flesh_. It begins. The pack follows me and I follow the meat. Kill, kill, kill. A new smell wafts in, fear. We follow it, we _know_ it. 

Run, run, run. The fear flares and tries to retreat, but we are faster. And something... else, _beyond, familiar._ Then the fear stops, _dead._ I sprint ahead of them, _my_ pack, leave them in the snow. I only smell meat now, meat and _it._ Finally, I find the meat. Fresh, bloody, meat. The pack, the males, find it too. Suddenly I see something, white on white. Only the eyes are red. My final brother.


	50. Finery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, Tyrion leaves King's Landing around the same time as Ned and Arya do for Pyke.  
> Also, what were your thoughts on the last chapter?

Margaery woke to hear Robb making odd noises. She put her hand on his forehead, he was practically dripping with sweat. "Robb." Margaery shook him, "Robb, what's wrong?"

The meat is good, bloody, rich meat. I should take this back to my den. I drag the deer to a tree... I feel something on my-

"Robb!" He woke with a start. It took a few moments to recognize his wife sitting up next to him. "Good morning." He said with a smile on his face, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Margaery caught on in an instant. "What did you dream about?" He licked his lips, "Nothing." He didn't even have time to react before Margaery put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him down onto the bed, climbing on top of him. Her hair formed a curtain around her face as she leaned over him. "I know when you're lying." Something occurred to Robb. "Where's Grey Wind?" Margaery frowned, "Hunting, I imagine. He isn't here. Why?" Robb tried to conceal his alarm. "Did you dream that something happened to him?" Damn, she knew him too well. "Not quite. I dreamed that I _was_ him." "What did you see?" "I'm not sure."

Margaery could see that Robb didn't want to talk about it so she let it go. She leaned back and realised her night-gown wasn't done up. She kissed her husband while she folded it down her body, revealing herself. Margaery looked at him slightly wolfishly, "You know, we don't have to get up just yet." Robb raised his eyebrows as she pulled away. "No I suppose we don't. My wonderfully devious wife." Margaery giggled as he kissed across her body, letting her fingers tangle in his hair before pulling him to her lips.

Tyrion sat on his horse conversing with Tommen when he saw the Stark banners approaching. He spurred his horse forward, his entourage following suit. He rode through the gates of Winterfell approaching the small party waiting for them. He almost jumped off his horse and walked up to the couple standing in the centre. "Lord Stark, I see you're still holed up in this wasteland." 

Robb raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended to tease his wife who looked slightly worried. "As opposed to...?" The mirth on Tyrion's face made him laugh as he stepped forward to shake his friend's hand. "It's good to see you, my old friend."

Tyrion clasped Robb's hand, "And you, Wolf Puppy." The woman standing next to Robb snickered while Tommen and Bronn snorted loudly at a very embarrassed looking Robb. "Lady Margaery, it's good to see you as well." She nodded, "Thank you, Lord Tyrion." 

Margaery turned to Robb, "I was at court when Tyrion went before the Small Council." She explained quickly. "My father had me brought back to Highgarden when Robert called the banners."  
He nodded and offered her his hand while gesturing to the rest of his family. "Come, let's go inside." As he turned away, a voice said. "Margaery Tyrell, the whore of Highgarden." The three stopped dead and turned to see Joffrey Hill in a cage. She tightened her hold on Robb as she faced him. "Joffrey." The former prince was huddled in a cage, looking at them with a loathing only a madman could manage. 

Robb let go of Margaery's hand. "So, this is what you are. An animal." Joffrey rattled his chains. "An animal is what you are, Stark. You and your whore wife and your bitch sisters." If Joffrey had expected any kind of reaction, it wasn't the one Robb intended to give. He simply smiled, "The Starks are animals, Joffrey." He whistled loudly. "We are wolves." He turned his back on Joffrey, hearing him scream as Grey Wind jumped on top of the cage, snarling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a perfect time to have a 50th chapter.


	51. Supply

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the gap between the chapters, I just don't have as much time as when I started writing. Christmas is coming soon so I will be making up for lost time over the ho-ho-holidays.
> 
> Just to clear up an issue I have noticed in the timeline, Catelyn's last POV takes place just after Tyrion leaves the Twins so a few days at most from her departure.

"Lord Commander?" Jon looked up from the book he was reading. "A message from Cotter." He sighed and stood. "Thanks, Sam." Jon waved a hand to signal he was fine but Sam stayed anyway. "Is there a problem?" Sam hesitated, "Emmett says the Bolton men are ready to take their vows. He thinks you should name them all rangers and send them to Hardhome." Jon snorted, "Never has a notion tempted me more. As much as I would love to get rid of them, we need the men and I don't want to risk giving the Boltons an excuse to attack us. Janos Slynt may have been a deserter and a fool but he didn't deserve to die like that. They did it to him, they can do it to the rest of us." What Jon didn't say was that he didn't plan on all of the Boltons taking their vows just yet. He opened the letter.

"So," Robb raised an eyebrow, "what brings you here?" The three of them were sat by a fire, drinking mulled wine with the exception of Margaery, who seemed content with warm honeyed milk. Tommen was with Bran and Rickon and the direwolves. Tyrion drank deep before putting his cup down and sighing. "I felt that Tommen and his sister should get out of the Westerlands for a time. Away from Cersei, away from Casterly Rock, away from my father's shadow." Robb nodded sadly, as much as he tried to hide it, Tyrion had never forgiven himself for killing his father. He felt guilty for Jaime's death too. "And I wanted to do something for the realm that didn't involve kinslaying or nearly bankrupting myself propping up a drunken fool. Joffrey is to join the Watch, from what I've heard of him, your brother might just be able to control him. I plan to negotiate supply routes from Lannisport to the Wall, hopefully he'll be welcome to the idea." Robb nodded, "Perhaps it's time for me to make a visit too. I trust Jon with my life but the rest of the kingdoms might need more than the word of a bastard." Margaery cleared her throat. Robb cut her off, "No." 

"Why not?" She pouted slightly. "It's dangerous." She chuckled humourlessly, "The glass gardens are dangerous, the hot springs are dangerous, the godswood is dangerous. Why would you let me there but not the Wall?" Robb's ears were turning red. "The Wall isn't a place for a lady. Especially not a Stark lady who happens to be my wife and is carrying my child." She raised an eyebrow provocatively, "So you only care for our baby then? Am I nothing but a brood mare, only worthy of protection when I'm actually doing my job?" "That isn't... You know I don't..." He spluttered. "I sent the Bolton men there..." Tyrion was laughing quietly so Robb rounded on him. "What's so damned funny?"

Tyrion almost spat out his wine, "Sorry, it's just the image of my father having this argument with my mother." A small smile spread across Robb's face and soon the three were laughing into their cups. Robb closed his eyes and grew serious again as he spoke, "I'm clearly not going to win this argument. Fine, you can come but you have to stay near Jon or me and Grey Wind will be with you at all times." Margaery grinned and kissed him quickly. "Thank you, my wolf." As she walked away, Tyrion clapped Robb on the shoulder.

"Now you know why I stuck with whores."


	52. Off the edge

"It's time to assign you to your posts, once you've said your vows, you'll start work immediately." Jon had assembled the new recruits in the training yard. He took the list from Emmett, "Ben, to the stewards, Dick, to the stewards. Damon, to the stewards. Luton, to the stewards. Alyn, to the builders. Skinner, to the builders. Grunt, to the builders. Jack, to the stewards." He pocketed the list and as he did so, Damon approached him. Give me a reason, he thought. "No, thanks, bastard. We'll decide where we go and we want to be rangers." Jon shook his head in frustration, "I am the Lord Commander here, Damon. I decide where you go and what you do. You will go to the stewards and you will shut your trap unless somebody asks for your opinion, do I make myself clear?"

He turned to the rest of them, "That goes for everyone." Damon stuck his chin out but Jon continued. "I will not waste men going north. Nor will I name any bloody one of you rangers. If you won't shut up and follow orders, I'll give you to the wildlings, they'll boil you alive." Damon chuckled, "I'll give them you instead." He drew a knife and charged Jon. Jon simply kicked his knee and flipped him to the ground, he grabbed the fallen knife and slashed him across the face. "I've been stabbed before. It isn't fun." Emmett grabbed the other man. "Find me a block." He stepped down after a pleading Damon. "I'll join the stewards, I swear!" Jon drew Longclaw and muttered, "I doubt it." When a block was found, he stood next to it, clasping Longclaw. "Damon. I, Jon Snow, of Stark blood, 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, sentence you to death. With mine own mouth, I condemn you, with mine own hand I take your life. "Would you speak a final word?" Damon looked up and spat. "When Ramsay Bolton hears of this, he'll flay you inch by inch until nothing remains. Maybe he'll let us fuck your sisters, maybe even your brother's wife." Jon swung Longclaw down so hard he almost tore the bark off the stump. Then he heard the wail of a horn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to stop writing for this fic until further notice, I want to focus on my other fic, Easy come Easy go. I'm not leaving this story for good but I need to take a break before I get too bored to do anything. I'll still read the comments but I just need a break to try something new.


	53. The Onion Knight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everybody! I wanted to get this done earlier but I couldn't find the time and this is super long as a special treat. This chapter is one of the first ones that I came up with and I'm really happy to get to this stage. I decided to have some fun with Margaery and Tyrion comparing their minds and playing a little Game of Thrones as an added bonus. I will come back to this fic as a regular update soon but it was good for me to get a break and let my head kind of calm down. I've been pumping out ideas nonstop and it was getting too much for me. I know exactly where this fic will go until the end and let me say right now, all hell is going to break loose soon. I hope I've dropped enough hints as to what's going to happen without being super obvious. I also want to reiterate that any and all criticism is welcome and accepted. Seriously, don't you dare hesitate to drop a comment if you think I'm mucking up.

Robb rode through the gate of Castle Black, looking around in curiosity. He saw Jon standing next to a stump and Oh, gods. "Clean it up." He heard him say to his men. Jon sheathed his sword and stepped forward, "Lord Stark." "Lord Commander, may I introduce Lord Tyrion Lannister." Jon turned to Tyrion, "Lord Tyrion, your reputation precedes you." "As does yours, Lord Commander." Margaery stepped up beside Robb. "You must be Margaery." She raised an eyebrow, "Oh, has there been some correspondence going on behind my back?" Jon chuckled, "No, I was there when the betrothal was announced and it's the only reason Robb would be seen dead or alive with a pregnant woman." They laughed and Jon beckoned them to his chambers.

When they entered, Jon was no longer smiling. "Idiot." Robb stared at him, "Excuse me?" "I said 'Idiot.'" Jon snapped and sat down behind his desk. "What in seven hells were you thinking bringing her here?" Robb and Margaery exchanged a look, "She didn't give me a choice." Jon gaped and turned to Margaery, "Lady Margaery, are you completely out of your wits?" Robb helped her sit, "It didn't seem fair-" "It doesn't seem fair to me that I have to preside over a castle of men with the maturity of an infant yet I still have to it. I think you could miss seeing a complete wreck filled with the dredges of the Seven Kingdoms." Jon didn't mean to pour out all of his pent up frustration onto the poor woman but didn't feel tremendously sorry either. He took a breath, "It's clear that you don't care very much for your own safety, so think of your child. I never thought I'd feel so ashamed of someone other than myself." Robb had gone red, "Jon, I understand your concerns but I don't think you're exactly qualified to comment on the influence a woman can have on you." Jon jumped to his feet, "As a matter of fact I am!"

Tyrion watched the exchange in silence, it was clear that Snow held a lot of regret in his heart but even he was surprised to hear him admit it out loud that he hated himself. "Calm down, both of you! She's here now and none of us can really change that!" The two brothers sat down, Tyrion sighed. He supposed it was best to finish the line of thought. "Who was she?" Snow took a shaky breath and sighed, "Her name was Ygritte, she was a wildling girl I met while I was undercover. She was part of the group that captured me." He rubbed his eyes, "She died in this castle, on a battlefield. I burned her body myself." Tyrion glanced at Robb, seeing the sadness there as well. Robb missed Talisa, Jon missed Ygritte and he missed Tysha. Margaery saw the sadness too and took Robb's hand in hers. "We've all lost loved ones and cherished ones. What's important is to cherish those we have left, as much as they cherish us." "Well said. To business then!" Tyrion exclaimed. "Lord Snow, I have come to speak about a possible arrangement between the Westerlands and the Wall. We have a surplus of crops and supplies from our gross product, I would see it put to good use." Snow nodded. "The Watch is not proud, we take what is offered as my old commander was wont to say. Yet you speak of an arrangement, what would be our end?" The boy was perceptive, he'd make an interesting presence in King's Landing. "Only that you continue to uphold your vows. From what I've heard from Lord Stark, the Watch is a vital safeguard to the realm, your vigilance is our security and it's time we recognised that."

Margaery wasn't entirely convinced Tyrion was genuine, however good he seemed. Clearly, he was using the opportunity to garner favour with Lord Stark in King's Landing, as if he needed it. Jon seemed sceptical as well but hid it incredibly well, Margaery would almost have thought him to be a politician. "Then you have my eternal gratitude, My lord." Tyrion shook his head, "Actually, I'm afraid I have a deceptively small price. My nephew Joffrey has reluctantly decided to join the Watch, from your reputation I believe you are the man to control him." Jon didn't miss a beat, "So you can't control your sister's children." "Just Joffrey. Myrcella and her brother are both sweet children, she's even marrying to a Martell. Tommen is on his way with the rest of the men. I ordered him to stay and help, at your brother's recommendation." Both Snow and Stark nodded their approval, "That's the belief that founded the Watch's own. We elect our own commander because we know he's one of us." "And they elected you." She smiled, "You northerners are an odd lot, yet you make more sense than most men from the South." Robb stood up, "Now that we've finished, I was wondering if you'd spar with me? You owe me a practice session." Jon's face flickered almost imperceptibly, but Margaery caught it. "I suppose I have no objection, I need to pass the time before my next meeting and I think you'll want to join in." 

While Jon and Robb picked out their sparring swords, Margaery and Tyrion sat on a bench, not too far at Robb's insistence, to watch them. "So, what do you make of Lord Commander Snow?" The question intrigued Margaery as much as the potential answers. "He seems a good man. He is Lord Stark's son, we both know that gives him a great example to follow. His men respect him." "And follow it he does. It seems ironic, does it not, that the heir looks less like the father than the bastard? His men don't just respect him, they fear him. He is the personification of a Stark." "Well, Lady Catelyn was hardly a good role model for him to follow now, was she? It seems natural that he would favour his father's mannerisms." "Oh, he favours Eddard Stark in everything but name, where is his mother's influence, I wonder?" Margaery already had her own theory regarding Jon's appearance. "Certain traits don't carry on. It seems Jon's mother, whoever she was, didn't pass on many. As for Robb, Sansa also favours her mother greatly, it can be random chance." "When is it not?" "The Targaryens always had similar appearances, the blood of Valyria ran pure and strong in theirs." "You have me there." They sat in silence for a moment before he spoke again. "When Robb asked him to train with him, his face twitched. What does that signify, in your view?" Margaery scoffed, "Are we going to spend our day psychoanalysing Jon Snow?" "Unless you can offer a better topic of conversation, the weather maybe?" They both snickered at his comment.

"So, tell me about your sword." Robb aimed a jab at Jon's arm that was easily deflected. "It was Jeor Mormont's. He gave it to me after I saved his life." Jon responded with a quick swing that Robb barely dodged. "What do you plan to do with it after you're gone?" "It'll go to my successor, if it isn't lost." They exchanged a few more blows. "Do you know why I was so afraid for you and your wife?" "Because the men haven't seen a woman for so long?" "That's not the only reason." "The Bolton men." "Aye," Jon clipped Robb's knee, making him wince. "I had to execute one of them today. And one of them is innocent." "They were all caught red-handed." "He was forced into it. He's not the type to do what they did to Janos Slynt." "He could have been the watcher." "He's innocent." "Alright, I trust your judgement. I'll pardon him." "Thank you." Jon kicked the flat of his own blade and it caught Robb between the legs. He fell to the ground, "Yield." "That doesn't seem very honourable." "A trick I picked up from the wildlings. Honour means very little when you're freezing and starving to death." 

Another horn blast signified the arrival of the rest of the Lannister host. Once Tyrion had introduced Tommen, he brought Jon round to take Joffrey. "Unhand me, bastard! I am the Lord of Casterly Rock!" Joffrey tried to hit Jon and received a punch in the face for his trouble. "I'll have him taken to the ice cells. That should soften him up." Tyrion asked Tommen to join the patrols on top of the Wall and Jon summoned them to his office once more. "Ser Davos Unseaworthy." Tyrion japed. Davos sniffed, apparently it still rankled with him that his ship sank in the middle of a battle. "Lord Tyrion, Lord Stark, it's good to see you again." Robb shook his hand, "And you, Ser. This is my wife, Margaery." They shook hands as well, "Margaery, this is Ser Davos Seaworth, he commands the fleet of Dragonstone." The five of them sat. Jon immediately got to business, "How goes the evacuation effort?" "We simply don't have enough ships, we'd have to make multiple return trips, if that were possible." Robb sat forward, "I spoke with Theon Greyjoy, he said there was a possibility that he'd be able to augment your fleet, is there any way to delay the voyage?" "The Lannister fleet will support you as well as the ships from the North." Jon and Davos nodded, "The ships we have should go, the rest can go when they are prepared." Jon inhaled, "Davos, are you sure you want to do this? Skagos is not easy to reach." Davos nodded sadly, "I have nothing else left. My wife died in childbirth not too long ago, my sons will be with me when the time comes. It's no more than what you've done, Lord Snow." That struck a chord in Jon, he fell silent. "I pray to the gods we can succeed." Davos stood and went for the door. "Davos, you have my heartfelt respect and gratitude." Jon said quietly, he smiled thinly. "I hope you don't get seasick easily." "Well, Stannis did name me Admiral of the Narrow Seas." Jon, Robb and Margaery laughed but Tyrion stayed silent, "Goodbye my old friend." He whispered.

Robb noticed Tyrion was looking at Jon in a way he'd hoped never to see again, in pure disgust and fury. "What's wrong, Tyrion?" Jon looked like he wanted to sleep for a thousand years, "You know I had no choice, remember that, my lord." Tyrion slammed a fist on the table, "Skagos?!" He shouted, "You're sending them to Skagos?!" "I am." "What in seven hells have you done?!" "My duty." "Robb stood, "Tyrion, what's wrong?" "Skagos is unreachable by ship. What your brother has done is condemn thousands of men, women and children to their deaths!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case there's any curiosity or anything, in this universe Jon has mild PTSD. And to those people who think I love Jon too much, he is my favourite character who is still alive on the show, cut me some slack. By the way, super sneaky hint for something big (or small) that will happen later on, can you maybe see it? Theories welcome as well!


	54. Expression

Robb and Jon stood at the top of the Wall. They looked over the forest until Robb couldn't take the silence anymore. "Jon, without condemning or condoning, I understand why you did what you did." Jon nodded, not speaking. "Jon, come on. You can speak to me, you aren't the only one who's sent thousands of men to die." "When?" "The Lannisters held parts of the Riverlands before we could get there, I sent two thousand men to the Green Fork as a distraction while I led the other troops around and routed them. We didn't get there in time to save the two thousand. It was meant to be our first victory but in hindsight, it tastes like a defeat." Robb looked at him intently, "We're not so different, Jon. What happened to the man I grew up with? I don't recognize you anymore." "They made him Lord Commander." Jon snapped, Robb didn't want to think about the implications of that statement. "It's not just that. What changed? Was it Ygritte? To have that effect... What was she like?" Jon glanced at him and inhaled, "She was... like if you took Arya and Maege Mormont and Greatjon Umber and merged them together and gave her a bow and arrow. She wasn't even that pretty by southron standards, certainly nothing like your wife, but in hindsight... that's what made her so beautiful to me."

"Davos?" Tyrion wringed his hands as he approached the former smuggler. "There's something you should probably know." "What?" "It's about Shireen Baratheon. She's in Dorne." Davos frowned, "Why Dorne and how do you know?" "Because I took her there. She asked me to take her, I had planned to leave her at Storm's End. When we were in Sunspear, she asked me if she could stay. I said that it wasn't my choice. She's likely to be at Starfall." "Edric Dayne?" "Yes, Edric Dayne." The Onion Knight smiled, "She deserves him. Thank you, Lord Tyrion." They shook hands.

When all the farewells had been said, Robb and Margaery began the journey home to Winterfell. Margaery had been chewing on her lip in worried thought all day so when they stopped to give the horses a quick rest, Robb climbed into her carriage. "May I speak with you?" She smiled, "Of course, my wolf." She kissed his cheek as he sat. He looked at her, "What's wrong?" She rested her head on his shoulder and hesitated, "Tyrion suspects." Robb raised an eyebrow but didn't look surprised. "He's the cleverest man I know, I knew it was a possibility." He smiled, then snorted. Margaery frowned as he started laughing uproariously. "Sorry. It's just... I've been called so many things, The Young Wolf, The Wolf Who Made Lions Bow. A fierce warrior worthy of the songs. Yet I feel like a puppy, a tiny thing like our wolves were when we met them, when I think about the Imp, the Spider, the Beggar King... The Rose of Highgarden." Margaery was nearly speechless, "You think I'm dangerous?" He took her hand and cupped her face. "Yes. People like you and Tyrion scare me more than Tywin Lannister or Gregor Clegane. That's why I feel lucky that you are my wife, not just because you are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, not just because you're carrying our child, but because you are on my side." He put a hand on her stomach and kissed her, "But one thing you must never do is underestimate Tyrion Lannister because that was Tywin's biggest mistake, not fighting Robert Baratheon, but underestimating his own son.


	55. Little Cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Graphic noncon

Catelyn couldn't remember what happened. She just had fractured images of her son being angry, her daughter-in-law cold, a man with an arrow in his neck. She laughed, she remembered everything else. She gasped as the man behind her pulled her hair. Please no, Ned loves my hair. He reached a hand around and groped her breast as he finished inside her, knocking her to the floor. "You really are a wanton whore, aren't you Lady Stark?" Another man came in and pulled her to her knees in front of hm, forcing her to take him in her mouth. It felt like an eternity before he stopped thrusting into her mouth and she nearly gagged on his load. Once he left, Catelyn lifted trembling fingers and did her dress up again, they weren't always so gentle. Sometimes they pushed her against a table and fucked her so hard she wanted to die, they usually took her from behind. They'd make her strip for them, let them touch her body, squeezing and pinching and forcing their tongues into her mouth. At first, she tried to pretend they were all Ned except everything was wrong. Ned never made her cry, always let her choose what they'd do. Eventually she stopped distinguishing pain and pleasure, she experienced both at the same time so much... 

"Cat." The mockingbird called out. She didn't give him a name anymore. She tugged the laces in her dress slightly, letting it slump a little and exposing her chest. He turned her around and tore the back of the dress to reveal her bare back. "Better." He ran a hand down her spine to her skirts. He pulled them away and cupped her backside, she felt him getting ready. He pushed her onto the bed and removed his own clothing, she instinctively fisted the sheets and screamed as he entered her hard and fast. She tried to crawl away but he climbed on top of her, grabbed her hips and rammed into her even harder. His hands roamed over the bruises and calluses and chafing on her body and legs, slapping her. The dungeon was filled by a smacking sound as he drove harder and faster. Suddenly, he stopped and pulled out. He removed the rest of her clothes and pulled her up to him, kissing her while his hand clenched her arse. After a moment, he pushed her back onto her front. She felt something poke at her... Other place. "No..." She whimpered. He just pushed her down and lay on her, his breath tickling her ear. "Little Cat." He murmured, so close she could smell the mint on his breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel really bad now. This is the most fucked up thing I've ever conceived.


	56. Conclusions

"I'm sorry, dear. I'm just feeling a bit ill, it's probably just the baby." Margaery spat out a blob of phlegm into the chamberpot. "It's quite alright, sweetheart." Robb put a hand on her shoulder as he brushed her hair back, "I remember my mother used to throw up all the time when she was carrying Rickon, there were so many smells that set her off for some reason. He hasn't become any easier to manage either." She snorted, "No, he hasn't." She didn't notice the slight tightening of his chest. Margaery rinsed her mouth and wiped her face, getting into bed with Robb's help. "See you later, my wolf." 

Once Margaery was sound asleep, Robb rushed to Maester Luwin's chambers as fast as he could without running. "My lord, what is the problem? Is Lady Margaery alright?" Robb passed the wise old man to enter the small quarters packed to the brim with all kinds of potions and books. "Yes, she's just having a nap. I left a handmaiden to watch over her." Luwin was frowning as he started pacing. "Have there been any ravens from Riverrun? Or from my mother? Any kind of communication from the Riverlands?" "No, my lord. There has been no word of Lady Stark since her departure." Robb sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "What if something happened? What if she didn't reach the riverlands? What if-" Luwin put a hand on his arm. "Robb, you must calm down. You're jumping to the worst possible conclusions, that is the soldier in you. You must find the lord. It may very well have been entirely innocent reasons, ravens are clever birds but not infallible. There are plenty of explanations as to why there has been no news of your mother's arrival." He said in that kind, firm and reassuring manner that always made Robb feel slightly better, no matter what. He nodded, "Could you send a raven to Lord Edmure? Just to make sure." "Of course, my lord."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still feel really bad about the last chapter but I'm curious as to your thoughts on it. Please do comment, even if you hate my guts now.


	57. Bait

"It doesn't appear to be anything threatening, Lady Margaery. Most likely the stress of carrying a child is catching up to you." Maester Luwin patted her shoulder gently, "I prescribe a few day's rest and then it would be an idea to find some ways to relax you further." Margaery smiled, "Thank you, maester. This baby is already a handful and we haven't even met them yet. I'm sure Robb has some ideas." The door opened and Grey Wind entered, climbing onto the bed and curling up by her leg. "It appears that Robb's protectiveness of you has passed on to his direwolf." Luwin noted with a smile. "Yes, I believe Grey Wind is more than just a wolf, he's an extension of Robb. They all are extensions of their Starks." Margaery didn't mention the wolf dreams, she still didn't know what to make of them. She could Bran and Rickon playing with their wolves outside. "They certainly are similar in temperament. Shaggydog shares Rickon's wildness, Summer is the boy who wants to be a knight. Nymeria is the perfect companion for a girl who wants nothing more than to be a warrior. Lady is, well, the perfect lady. Ghost... Jon Snow was always quiet, kept to himself but nobody can doubt his devotion to his brothers or his duty. Grey Wind has Robb's confidence and fierceness, and his love for you." He finished with a thoughtful smile. "Believe me, my lady, Robb may be a Stark but he takes his mother's words to heart just as much as his father's. There is nothing he would not do to protect you and your children." "I never doubted that for a moment, master. I knew from the moment I met him."

"Seven hells." Robb hefted the book off the shelf with a grunt and stepped down from the chair he'd been standing on. He dusted of the cover and turned to the section on wargs. "Lord Stark?" Robb started and slammed the book shut. "Maester, apologies. I didn't hear you." Luwin nodded, "Word from Riverrun." Robb took the letter and broke the seal. "How is Margaery?" "Nothing serious. It appears to be the pregnancy taking it's toll." He nodded and unfolded the letter. After a few seconds of silence he scrunched up the parchment. "Send word to Greywater Watch and Moat Cailin. Tell them to check any wagons leaving the North. I want the Kingsroad watched and searched. Send ravens to Riverrun and The Eyrie, inform them what happened. If you can, request that the Blackfish come north, he'll be a help if things get ugly-" "Lord Stark! There are men in the courtyard demanding to see you." A servant ran into the library. "Were they displaying sigils?" "Not that I could see but they're northern and they're armed." "If they're here for trouble, they're in for a treat." Robb muttered. "Is Grey Wind with my wife?" "Yes." "Bran and Rickon?" "In their chambers. My lord." "Good. With me." He rattled his sword loose and stormed down the corridor. When they reached the courtyard, Ser Rodrik approached him. "This way, my lord. You won't like this." He was right. "Harrion, what is the meaning of this?" Harrion Karstark turned away from his men. "I have something for you." "You could have sent a raven or a messenger rather than wasting my time." Harrion smirked. "I think you'll want to see this." He pulled a box out of his saddlebag. "Sorry about the smell, it rotted on the journey."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhangar! Mwahaha!


	58. Banners

The smell emanating from the box was rank, it was somewhere between rotting flesh and something Robb couldn't quite place. He tried not to let his hands shake as he took it from Harrion. "May I ask who this is from?" "From the people of the North who believe that House Stark is no longer fit to rule." He almost laughed, "And this group wants to send me a bad smell?" "It's not so much the smell as what's causing it." Harrion smirked. Robb opened the box and wrapped his hand around the trout inside. Underneath was a flap of skin. Robb felt a peculiar calm as he processed the ramifications of the message. "Here." Harrion held out a knife. Robb took it and cut the fish open, the fish was full of red hair. Tully red. His mind started screaming, _Nononononono!_ But he didn't move an inch. "What do you want?" "Lord Bolton wants the North. He wants Winterfell to bend the knee. We'll keep your mother as a hostage to ensure your good behaviour and foster your brothers and sons at Karhold, The Dreadfort and Barrowton. How they're treated is up to you, refuse and we'll start sending your mother back piece by piece." Robb nodded slowly, glancing from his men, who had their hands hovering over their swords, to Maester Luwin, who looked like he was going to be sick for the first time in living memory, to the window where inside, his wife was sleeping with their unborn child. He closed his eyes. "Forgive me, Margaery." He whispered and drew his sword. "Take them."

Instead of going for Harrion directly, he swung his sword at the man to his left. The man was caught off guard and Robb sliced through his hand and stabbed him through the back of the head. He heard one of his men scream as Harrion put his own through his belly. He just had time to shift as Robb brought his sword down in an overhead slash. Robb blocked the strike aimed at his leg and just missed Harrion's arm. "Why?" "Why?! My brothers died fighting for you, they saved your sorry hide from Jaime Lannister and you never gave a shit! You Starks don't give a shit about us! You dishonoured us when you married the Whore of Highgarden over families that you owe! What the fuck did Mace Tyrell ever do that Torrhen and Eddard weren't prepared to? Barbrey Dustin's husband died for your father and he never brought his bones back! But of course, the honourable Eddard Stark brought back his sister because she did, what exactly? Run off with Rhaegar Targaryen and fuck him for a little adventure? Then you gelded the heir to the Dreadfort! You have gallons of blood on your hands, Stark. It's time somebody drowned you in it." Robb could tell Harrion was going to make a mistake, and he did. He tried to stab Robb's foot and Robb stomped on the blade and punched him in the face. "If it was Alys who died that day and you only had room for one body, what would you do?" Harrion spat on the sword at his throat, "Don't talk about Alys like she's anything to you!" "She is something to me." Robb deadpanned. "Before my father betrothed me to Margaery, I almost asked for your sister's hand. I never had any control over my relationship with Margaery, Harrion. The betrothal was made for me but she is my wife and I love her. You threatened my family, took my mother hostage and now you're in open rebellion. Harrion Karstark, on charges of murder and treason, I sentence you to die. Would you speak a final word?" "Your family made your bed, Stark. Now you lie in it." Robb nodded and took his head. "Maester Luwin," he called, "Call the banners." Luwin had a look on his face that Robb had never seen on him before, it almost looked like bloodlust. "With pleasure, Lord Stark."


	59. Rage

"Enter!' The doors to the Small Council chamber opened and a servant rushed in. "Raven for Lord Stark, your grace." Robert nodded his assent and watched Ned as he broke the seal. He read the letter slowly, once, twice, three times before sliding it over to Robert. "I have to go north." "Ned." Ned stood, "If my son has called the banners, I have to be there with him." **"NED STARK! TAKE ONE MORE FUCKING STEP AND I'LL HOUND YOU TO THE SEVEN HELLS!"** Robert grabbed his arm with that famous Baratheon strength. "Robb's the best military commander I've seen in a long time. He's a proven warrior, a great soldier. Hells, he gave Tywin Lannister a run for his fucking gold. Plus he's got the Tyrells on his side. If there's anyone Roose Bolton shouldn't cross, it's him." "He has my fucking wife, Robert!" Ned was never one to curse but this was too much. "Lord Eddard, please. This is a council, let us counsel you." Marwyn piped up. "I don't know your son, my lord, but from what I've heard and from my time with your daughter he is a force to be reckoned with. Surely a man capable of running the North in your stead is capable of dealing with the Boltons? If they have your wife as he reports, they want something. Have they made demands?" Ned had to be pulled into his chair by the king. "They ordered Robb to bend the knee, he rejected out of hand and seized the men bringing the message." "If they sent a group of men then it was someone important." Bywater supplied. "Harrion Karstark. Heir to Karhold. Robb had to kill him. The Karstarks have been... angry, since the Kingslayer killed two of Lord Rickard's sons. Robb writes that Barrowton has also renounced it's fealty. Barbrey Dustin holds a personal grudge against me." Ned had to be pulled back to his chair. "I have to help my son." "And you will. Flower boy! Get in here!" Ser Loras Tyrell stepped in to the chamber, a look of concern on his face. "Your grace, my lords." He bowed. "May I speak my mind?" Robert nodded. "If a threat has been made against Winterfell, it concerns me as well. My sister is there. I ask your permission to go north and help Lord Stark crush the rebellion." Ned shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, Loras. Rest assured that Margaery will be safe at Winterfell, but your place is here. You are a knight of the Kingsguard." "There's another option, your grace. Let me send a raven to my brother, Garlan is a better swordsman than I am. He can take his best men and ride to the Dreadfort. Let me help my sister in any small way I can." "Do. Lord Varys will help you get any information you need on their numbers. You see, Ned?" Ned was speechless. "I'm not stupid. Tyrion Lannister proved you can be drunk and smart at the same time and living in this shithole is an education, even for men like me." Robert patted him on the back. "We'll help you, but you're keeping your northern hide here. That's my price." Ned knew he was cornered. "I need to speak to Arya, at the least. She'll find out anyway and I need to keep her safe." He stood without waiting for an answer. "Tom, where's Arya?" "I think she's with Prince Gendry, my lord. In the forge." Of course, she was always in the forge these days. 

"What about armor?" "Armor? On you? Not bloody likely." Gendry pointed at her arms. "You're too skinny for armor." Arya scoffed, "Then your head should be too big for that helmet of yours." Gendry blushed at that. "It was. I had to modify it." Arya stared for a second, then she almost fell over laughing. "Oh, gods! I knew it!" A knock on the door made her jump. "Arya?" "Father." Her father stood in the doorway. "There's been a raven from Winterfell. Robb's called the banners." Arya's jaw fell open, "Why?" "The Boltons and a couple of other houses have renounced their fealty." "Robb will beat them. He beat Jaime Lannister." "That's not the whole story, is it?" Gendry asked. Father shook his head. "No, it isn't. There's something else. The Boltons have your mother." Arya shook her head, "No. You're lying. Robb's wrong. It's a trick, tell me it's a trick. It's a sick joke that you think is funny but it's not because you never could tell a good... LIAR!" Gendry grabbed her before she could lunge at anyone. "Arya, calm down." "No! Put me down, Gendry!" She punched him in the gut, feeling her eyes well up with tears. "It's not true! It's not! You're all playing a prank on me! You're all..." She dissolved into tears and curled up into a ball in Gendry's arms.

"Robb?" Margaery's mouth felt it was full of sand. "My lady, please rest." A handmaiden tried to push her back down. "Where is my husband?" "Lord Stark doesn't want you-" "I don't give a damn about what he wants. Where is he?" Margaery was a kind soul in general but her grandmother had taught her how to intimidate anyone she needed to. "H-he's with his men, my lady." "How long was I asleep?" "You were awake a few times over the last few days... You might not remember it. I honestly am not sure, your husband visited you a couple of times." "Is something wrong?" The maid gulped, "Lord Stark wants you confined here until he can speak to his bannermen." Margaery jolted up. "His bannermen?! Why is he meeting with them?" "Please, my lady..." "Why are they here?" "He called the banners, I don't know exactly why but he's furious about something. There were some men here and he killed some of them... They gave him something. Please, my lady..."

 **"My lords!"** Robb roared, waiting for the clamour to die down before speaking. "If you're quite done bickering like children, can we get back to the task at hand?" He bent over the map. "Lord Umber, you have always been a valuable presence on the battlefield and in a war council. You will lead the assault on Karhold. Take a third of our men and lay siege to the castle. Prepare siege engines from the nearby forests. If they surrender, bring the Karstarks here, if not, you have permission to engage at your discretion. Do not harm those who do not fight, any man who pilages or rapes will be sent to me for punishment. Lord Glover, do the same to Barrowton, I will command the siege of the Dreadfort." A murmur of agreement rounded the hall. "Lady Mormont, I am leaving your daughters to watch over my wife in my absence. I hold them personally responsible for my family's safety." Robb gave her a pointed look. "I have sent ravens to my father in the capital, Ser Brynden Tully at the Bloody Gate and my aunt in the Eyrie. Hopefully she remember her house words." His mind flashed to old Jon Arryn, wondering about the marriage to his aunt. "The world has suffered House Bolton for too long, I mean to end them and remind them who bent the knee to whom. I am not Tywin Lannister but I will maintain order in the North. My mother, brothers and sons will not be bargaining tokens. Go about your preparations, my lords, and I hear that the Rains of Castamere is an excellent song for rebels." 

Robb had expected Margaery to be asleep so he was startled to see that she was standing in middle of the room, crying. "Marga-" She punched him in the face. "You're leaving me?!" She screeched. "I have to." She hit him again. "No! You're not going to war, not now! What could possibly be so important that you're leaving?" The Boltons are rebelling and they have my mother. They told me to bend the knee." Margaery sobbed into his shirt. "Just bend the knee, then. Don't go to war, you hate power anyway." "I can't do that. They also commanded me to give any sons we might have to the Dreadfort. I can't give them our children." Margaery pulled away and sobbed again. "So the boy born while his father was at war goes to war whilst his own child is born." He pulled her back into his arms. "I might be back before that, my love." She wiped her tears away and made her way to the cupboard. "I was going to give this to you for your nameday." She picked up a helmet and slammed it into his chest. "You're going to wear this. I don't care if it's uncomfortable or makes you feel stupid, you're wearing it." Robb wheezed and examined it. "This is... I'm sorry, I can't." "You will." Robb put the helmet down, "It looks-" "Like a wolf. I thought it was appropriate." "It looks like the Hound's helmet. I won't ride into battle looking like the Hound." "The Hound is dead. I couldn't care less what it looks like, you're wearing it. That's my price. Give me some peace of mind." Robb saw her face and knew he couldn't refuse, "Please be safe." He embraced her and their child kicked in her belly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was longer than I thought it would be. I'm happy to finally be getting somewhere at least.


	60. M'invitasti

"Lord Commander? Raven from Winterfell." Jon rubbed the scar on his temple. "Thank you, Sam." He broke the seal and read it with an eyebrow raised. "Robb Stark has called the banners. The Boltons have renounced fealty and... They've taken Lady Catelyn hostage." Jon didn't know how to feel about that particular development. "I would advise you to keep an eye on them." "I gave them to Frostfinger, the man keeps so many eyes on everyone I wouldn't be surprised if he turned out to be either Varys or the Bloodraven reincarnate. It's Joffrey that concerns me. I need to speak to him." "Have you chosen a new steward? Ever since the attack you've been working your balls off with nobody to help you. And you need to find someone who might take your place. What about Edd?" Jon shook his head. "Edd's too serious for this sort of thing and he hates authority." Sam gave him a curious look. "What?" A small smile spread across the maester's face. "Oh. Very funny." He rubbed the stubble on his jaw, chuckling. "I don't know. I don't feel like it's necessary." He picked up the letter again. "As it is, I need to keep the men on track. Could you find Joffrey please?"

"You can tell your fat pig that he doesn't give me orders." Joffrey strutted through the door and sat in the chair that Sam had set up for Jon when he'd been struggling to walk after the attack. "I asked Sam to find you, in that capacity he speaks with my voice and I am in charge here. Respect Sam, he may very well save your life one day." Joffrey scoffed. "He saved my life three times, Joffrey. But I want to talk about you. I'm told you've been skiving off your duties and spending time with the Bolton men." Joffrey smirked, "I am a lord, I don't take orders from bastards and maesters." Jon stood, "You were never anything but the Kingslayer's get. I earned my position, we don't care who you are or what you did, but you chose to come here and that means you are under my command. You can at the very least train properly." "I don't need to train. Are you scared, bastard?" Jon tilted his head to the side. "What would I be scared of?" Apart from white walkers and wights and things lurking in the dark and myself. "You're scared to face me in a fight." Jon struggled to keep a straight face at the notion. "Would you like to spar with me?" "Live steel, to the death." Joffrey demanded with the confidence of a madman. "Have you ever fought with live steel? It's no small thing to kill a man." "Not to cravens like you, maybe." Before Joffrey could blink, Jon drew Longclaw and angled it at his throat. "Your father would have his blade through my neck before I could even draw my own. If ever the Kingslayer had to have a child, it had to be with Cersei Lannister. What a waste." Joffrey went purple with rage, "Robert Baratheon is my father! Those cravens would never challenge me directly so they spread filthy lies to try to take my birthright from me!" "Your birthright is the executioners block. Your legacy will be your service." He threw Longclaw onto the table and leaned over Joffrey, "Your claim is a place at my command. You chose to come here. I couldn't give less of a shit whether it was Robert Baratheon or Jaime Lannister who squirted you into your mother but now you are here. You left your life behind. You want to prove how tough you are, _bastard?_ Hit me." Jon had to hand it to him, he was mad enough not to be scared. He caught Joffrey's fist and twisted his arm until he screamed. Jon threw him over his shoulder with a grunt. "Growing up around Barristan the Bold and the Demon of the Trident apparently taught you nothing about fighting." He noted. Joffrey grabbed at the dagger on his belt and Jon blocked his arm with his own as he tried to stab him and broke his wrist. Joffrey squealed like a pig and felt to the floor, crying. Jon crossed the room and opened the door. "Get Frostfinger." He ordered the guards. He closed the door again and turned back see Joffrey charging toward him with Longclaw in his good hand. The blade nicked his chest as he darted forward and grabbed him by the throat, throwing him into a bookshelf. Jon picked up the fallen sword and sheathed it. He put a hand to his chest and it came away bloody. "Let me give you some advice. For your own safety, stay away from the Boltons. You don't want to know exactly how sharp their blades are. Start training and working hard, make this worthwhile." Jon lifted Joffrey up and placed him back into the chair.


	61. Iron from Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robb's armor is the same as the show.

Neither Robb nor Margaery were able to sleep that night. They just held each other as tightly as they could. "Are you sure it's the only way?" She knew it was futile, Robb would never back down now. "The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. That's how we live, Margaery." She nodded tearfully and traced his scars again. "Promise me you'll be careful. I want our child to have a father and... I'm scared what will happen to me if anything..." Robb shook his head. "Don't worry about me or the baby. You'll be safe here, Dacey Mormont is one of the finest fighters in the North, the Mormont sisters were brought up as warriors and women on Bear Island. My father considered sending Arya there once." "I'm related to the Mormonts, my aunt married Jorah Mormont." Robb involuntarily grimaced "That's one tale nobody needs to reminded of." "I think it is. When I first came North, the first thing I thought was how bloody cold it was. When I met you, I thought the same thing about you." Robb stroked her arm and kissed her forehead. "I know, I'm sorry about how I was." "It was only natural at the time. I'm just glad we could fall in love without destroying each other. Lynesse Hightower wasn't adaptable enough for the North, it wasn't their fault. What Jorah did was inexcusable, but it wasn't his fault." "Aye. My father is the greatest man I know. He cares for everyone, family, servant, bannerman, it doesn't matter to him. He took Jon in knowing it would cause problems, he's fair, just, loyal. He's a great father to all of us and I look up to him so much but I don't always agree with how he handles things. He made a mistake going to King's Landing. Roose Bolton wouldn't dare to lift a finger if he were here but then, we've all made mistakes." Margaery jabbed him in the ribs. "Robb Stark, I swear if you start berating yourself again I will throw you in a cell and let the Greatjon deal with the Boltons." Robb sighed and nodded.

He sat up, "It's time." Margaery didn't let go of his arm. "Margaery, please." He pulled himself out of her grip gently and felt her other hand brush his as he got up. "I'll help you." She wiped her eyes and sniffled, handing him his tunic and breeches as he picked up his pauldrons. He lifted his hauberk over his head and slipped the plated leather over it. She passed him his gauntlets and turned around, staring at the floor. "Margaery." Robb grasped her shoulders, "I need you to be strong. For me, for our child, for our House." He leaned in but she turned her head to the side then snarled and bit his lip harshly. Robb stepped back, eyes wide. He wiped the blood off his lip and grinned, "That's more like it." Margaery just glared at him and fastened his pauldron. She picked up his gloves and turned to see him running his hand along his jaw with an odd expression on his face. "What's wrong?" "Hm? Oh, it's nothing. Just... The last time I was wearing this armor, I had a beard. It's a strange thought, I know, but..." Margaery simply raised an eyebrow. "You had a beard?" "Well, you try living in a tent for six months without a decent razor and try to look presentable." He grumbled lightly. She laughed, "I actually can't imagine you with a beard, that's all." Robb chuckled, "Tell you what, I won't shave. Then you can compare." "That's what I'm afraid of, Robb. Don't you understand that? Yes, I worry that you'll die or get hurt but I also know that you can hold your own, I've seen you fight and I think that Loras and even Garlan would struggle against you but that's not what scares me the most. It took two years for the Starks to take the Dreadfort last time something like this happened, I'm a long way along, Robb. You yourself never met your father until you were more than a year old! How old will our baby be before you can come back? How long will your beard be? Will you still be the man I fell in love with or will you be a stranger who only remembers war?" "Margaery, for comparison, Casterly Rock had never fallen. We took it in a month. We know the Dreadfort, we even have a map! The Lannisters had the entire Westerlands, bar a few houses, the Boltons have three, maybe four, supporters. The only advantage they have is a hostage they may not even dare to use. I promise you, with everything that I am, that I will come back and I will be the same. My mother's words matter to me as much as my father's. I will be the same. Plus a beard, of course." Margaery smiled weakly. "There's one last thing I want to give you. I held off because I was hoping that I could change your mind." She showed him a locket. "My father gave this to Loras to give to Renly to give to Robert. Renly waited for a fortnight before broaching the subject of remarrying to Robert. I don't know exactly what happened but apparently Renly had a black eye the next morning. Loras got the message well enough and sent it back to me without Father knowing. It's only right that you have it."

Robb opened the locket to reveal the portrait of Margaery inside. "Thank you, my rose." He wrapped his arms around her and unlaced her nightgown. "I'll help you get dressed, it's only fair." She smiled and pressed her forehead against his. "Feels more like you're getting me undressed but I'm not complaing." He laughed and slipped the nightgown off of her shoulders. "Neither am I." He kissed her shoulder. Margaery sighed, "It's a shame we couldn't have each other one last time last night." Robb rested his head on her shoulder. "I suppose it is. I never knew it meant that much to you." She grinned wickedly, "There are other ways, other... places." "Margaery, we don't have time for this. When I get back and you aren't pregnant, we can try whatever you want. Not now." He groaned as her hand darted into his breeches. "Don't worry," She kissed him, "I'll be quick." She pushed him down to sit on the bed and knelt. Robb tried to put a hand on her shoulder and she put it down her unlaced gown. Margaery pulled the laces on his breeches and was about to lean in but changed her mind and pushed Robb onto his back. "Margaery, I don't think-" "It's safe, Robb, I asked Maester Luwin." "Of course you did." He muttered.

Robb walked out of the castle with Margaery at his side. "Lord Forrester." He greeted the man standing with Maester Luwin. "My lord, my lady. May I speak to you in private?" "Of course." They stood to one side. "I'm concerned about the Whitehills. I don't wish to alarm you but Ludd has been acting strangely. He has close ties to Roose Bolton." Robb nodded, "I need you and Rodrik with me, do you have anyone you trust to go to Highpoint and make sure there's no trouble? Ser Duncan or Ser Royland maybe?" "Ser Duncan is my Sentinel, he'll advise Ethan in my absence. Royland is more likely to massacre the lot of them than keep order. I could send my daughter's husband, Ser Gared was my squire, I knighted him myself. I'd trust him with my life. Talia won't be happy, though." "I think we all have a cause to be unhappy, Lord Gregor." Margaery pointed out, not unkindly. "I'm sure your wife would also be having words with Robb if she were here." Gregor smiled, "Karstark was a fool to say you aren't strong enough for the North, my lady." "That he was. Gared's a good man, he's capable of holding a garrison until this blows over. Have him send a report to me when he reaches Highpoint." Lord Forrester bowed and made for the horses.

Robb knelt to say farewell to his brothers. "Bran, I know that technically you are Lord of Winterfell when I'm away but I want you to let Margaery, Ser Rodrik and Maester Luwin make the big decisions, alright? This is war. They have experience in governance so please, listen to them." Bran nodded. "When will Mother come back?!" Rickon cried. "I'm going to get her, Rickon. I'm going to bring her home, I promise." He pulled the boys into a hug. "Both of you help Margaery, help her with the baby. Behave yourselves, that means no climbing walls, no running into the godswood at night. If you do, I've left instructions for you be confined to your chambers. Please be safe, both of you." Robb straightened up and was immediately engulfed by Margaery. "I love you." She buried her face in his shoulder. "I love you, both of you." He cupped her face and kissed her. "Remember what you promised me. Wear the helmet" "And don't shave. I remember." Margaery smiled and nodded. "Be safe, my wolf." "And you, my rose." Grey Wind sat next to her feet. "Grey Wind, stay with Margaery." "No." "Yes." For the first time, Margaery heard his general's voice. It sounded harsher than his lord's voice, it sounded nothing like Robb. Margaery didn't need to be able to read minds to know that the discussion was over. Robb turned to the maester and Ser Rodrik. "I leave Winterfell in your hands." "Don't worry about us, my lord. Go find your mother." Robb nodded gratefully at the castellan and mounted his horse. "We ride for the Dreadfort." He ordered his men. Margaery watched as his figure recceded from view, she stood there until she couldn't see him anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SKIP IF YOU WANT TO AVOID SPOILERS FOR TELLTALE GAME OF THRONES  
> I think that the Forresters are descended from the Starks. They have very close ties to the Starks, they look very close to the book description of Eddard Stark, minus Rodrik and Asher but they probably favour their mother, again like Robb and Sansa. They have six children in roughly the same order if we count Asher as the Jon Snow of the family. Mira is very much like Sansa in that she is very ladylike, serving under Margaery of all people, she has a cordial relationship with Tyrion and she has a developing talent for politics. Talia is not as rebellious as Arya but she gets quite ruthless as the episodes progress. Ethan is quite bookish, like Bran, he becomes the lord in his brother's absence. Ryon is basically Rickon with a different name, they're exactly the same. The actor who plays Rickon even looks very similar to the character in the game. Gregor is called "the Good", he shares many characteristics with Ned, he has a greatsword (I don't think it's ever addressed whether or not it's valyrian steel but it does seem quite light so for the purposes of the theory I'll assume it is), his wife is from a southern house, she herself is very much like Catelyn, he has two bastards and he sends them north (sound familiar?) to a place important to his family. The Forresters themselves have a very similar dynamic with the Whitehills that the Starks do with the Boltons, they compete for the same thing but the Starks and the Forrester do it better: dominion of the North and dominion of the Ironwood respectively. Both Winterfell and Ironrath are burned by the rival houses. In one of the death sequences, Rodrik's last words are "Mother." (sound familiar?) Finally there's the house words, Iron from Ice. Ice being the sword of House Stark, House Forrester presides over an Ironwood forest. What if the founder of House Forrester was a minor son of a Stark and was given the Ironwood forest, or at least some of it, as reward, very much like the Karstarks, and named their house "Forrester" for the forest, and took "Iron from Ice" as their words for "Ironwood from the house that carries Ice"? Do you guys agree or do you think they were just inspired by the Starks?
> 
> Yes, I ship Talia and Gared, I really don't know why it doesn't show up on this site given all the smutty twincest fics there are between Talia and Ethan. I searched for it and it didn't come up with anything. Also, I will address Asher eventually, he will be a part of this story.


	62. Steel Thorns

"Ser Garlan? I apologise if I am speaking out of tone but why are we headed north? Surely the Starks can deal with their own problems?" Garlan threw a sharp look in the soldier's direction, "We head north because my sister needs help. If the Boltons beat Robb Stark, Margaery becomes even more dangerous to them. In any case, the Starks are now her family, that makes them mine." He scratched his chin, "I want to be able to reinforce Robb's forces before he reaches the Dreadfort. We don't have time to argue." He spurred his horse forward and the soldiers followed suit. "Halt! Who are you?" A voice roared from a side road. "Ser Garlan Tyrell, brother to Lady Margaery Stark of Winterfell. I've been sent at my brother's suggestion to aid in the siege of the Dreadfort." There was a moment's silence and then a giant of a man appeared holding the biggest sword Garlan had ever seen. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the Knight of Pansies." "My brother Loras is the Knight of Flowers. He's the one who asked me to come here." The man nodded. "I am Jon Umber, Lord of Last Hearth. You can call me the Greatjon. We are on our way to lay siege to Karhold. Lord Stark's a bit further west. He means to strike each castle simultaneously." Garlan nodded, "I can take a message to Lord Stark if you wish it." "Tell him we'll be on those fuckers within the next few days, I'll offer peace terms and decide what to do from there. Good luck, Tyrell." "I will. May the gods watch over you, Greatjon." 

"Lord Stark!" Banners from the east!" Robb immediately swung around. "What sigil are they displaying?" "A yellow rose on green. It's the Tyrells!" Robb did a double take and stopped. He dismounted to greet the leader of the group. "Garlan?" He shook his brother-in-law's hand. "Did Margaery ask you here?" "No, your father asked Loras to send a raven to Highgarden, we left as soon as we got it. I have a message from Greatjon Umber, he says he'll reach Karhold within the next day or so." "Good, I imagine he told you my plan?" "Only that you mean for each force to strike at the same time." Robb nodded, "I'll fill in the blanks when we make camp at the Dreadfort. I want this over and done with." The Tyrell group merged into the vanguard. "Your father wanted to come north, the king forbade it." "Then you know what happened to Harrion Karstark." Robb noted bitterly. "Yes, I do. There was nothing else to be done." "It was stupid of me to kill him, we might have been able to keep Karstark out of this." "He bore naked steel against his liege, the punishment is death. You were angry. I'll wager you're the angriest man in Westeros right now. You can use that." "Oh, don't worry. I intend to. It's time the Boltons knew that the Lannisters aren't the only ones who don't tolerate rebellion." They rode on in silence for a time. "How is Margaery?" Garlan asked. "She's healthy, as far as I know. I left her in charge of Winterfell while I'm gone." "She does have a knack for running a household." Robb smiled, "Aye." "I imagine she was livid with you." "Oh, she was. She made me promise to wear this." He passed him the helmet. "Good craftsmanship." Garlan commented as he turned it in his hands, "She also made me promise to grow a beard." Garlan snorted, "That is exactly the sort of thing she would do." He could see that Robb hadn't shaved. "I can see why you might be reluctant to wear this. I saw the Hound fight in tournaments. Brutal doesn't do the man justice." He passed it back, "It's not in very good taste but it's a helmet. She just wants you safe." "I know, but if I go into battle looking like the Hound, I feel like I'm disrepecting the men who died at his hand under my command." "You killed the Hound, I think you can lay those ghosts to rest." "I suppose so. I did make a promise and I'll have to keep it."


	63. As High As Honour?

Robb and Garlan reached the top of the hill. "There." He pointed at the banners fluttering in the wind. "The scouts were right. The Arryns must have known something we didn't." Garlan noted. "That still doesn't explain why there was no word from the Vale, or why they chose not to go through White Harbour." "Perhaps they wished to save time? Landing on the coast is a faster way to get here than making your way through the busiest port this side of the Neck. You shut Moat Cailin, it took a missive from your father for them to let us through." Robb scratched his neck, "Unusually insightful of Lysa. Maybe she's actually started listening to the Blackfish for a change." He commented, turning to Lady Mormont. "Have the men make camp. I'm going to find out who's in charge here." Garlan remained by his side. "They say Lysa Arryn isn't entirely sane. She left King's Landing the day her husband died. The king was furious, he already stripped them of the Wardenship of the East." "Who did he name instead?" "According to the rumours, he wanted to name you. It took a threat from your father to change his mind. Robert was persuaded to take the responsibility under those of the crown, officially speaking." "Officially speaking. Meaning nobody's had the balls to tell Lysa to her face." Robb grumbled just loud enough for Garlan to hear. "What in seven hells?" He heard Maege Mormont curse as the sound of approaching horses reached their ears. "Are they attacking?" Garlan reached for his sword. "Can't be. The gate is sealed." Robb spurred his horse forward, "It's the Arryn troops." The leader of the party wore blue and silver armor with a helmet in the shape of a falcon. "In the name of Lord Robert Arryn, Lord of the Vale and Warden of the East, you are ordered to depart these lands immediately and on pain of death." He called. "Lord Arryn is no longer Warden of the East, by royal command. Nor are these lands under his jurisdiction, by rights you should be explaining yourself rather than making threats against Lord Robb Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North." Garlan challenged.

"Lord Arryn no longer considers House Stark suitable to keep the peace in the North. He now supports House Bolton's claim to the title Warden of the North." Robb tilted his head to the side. That sounded familiar. "House Bolton holds my mother, Lady Catelyn Stark, your lord's own aunt hostage and you say they keep the peace?" He wanted to laugh. "It is not my place to question Lord Arryn. Disperse and bend the knee or be destroyed." "You say that Lord Bolton is the rightful Warden and yet you forget that the Starks have the support of both the crown and the lords of the North. Forgive me if I do not see the sense in your words, Ser...?" Garlan trailed off. "Ser Lyn Corbray. Loyal servant to Lord Arryn." Robb had had enough. "I don't care whether or not you are loyal to Robert Arryn but you will move aside if you wish to see another day." Ser Lyn sneered and put a hand on the pommel of his sword, "Then Lady Forlorn will taste your blood, boy."

He gave a strangled groan and toppled from his horse. "Fucking craven." Brynden Tully sat on his horse, he held a crossbow in his hand. "Uncle." Robb greeted. "I'll have your head for this, traitor." Corbray grunted as the Blackfish stomped on his head, knocking him out. "Never could shut his mouth by himself." He bowed to Robb, "These men are yours, nephew." Robb nodded and turned to his lieutenants, "Begin the siege." He dismounted his horse and stood over the unconcious knight. "I need answers, uncle, but if we interrogate him there's no guarantee he'll say anything. I can't torture him." Brynden stroked his chin, "But I can, as far as the Vale is concerned, I'm nothing. I have no formal allegience to anyone but Edmure and you. I can do it in secret and give you what I can get out of him." 

"So, Robb. As possibly the most qualified man in Westeros when it comes to taking castles, what do you have in mind?" Garlan sat back in the chair, next to him was Robb, who sat at the head of the table, and Maege Mormont alongside the lords assembled in the tent. "We'll be using similar tactics to when we took Casterly Rock. In fact, the Rock may very well prove to be easier. Tywin underestimated us, Roose knows not to make that mistake." Robb noted, "There's a stream that runs in to the Dreadfort from the shore, there's a gap in the wall to allow it to come in. That gap is protected by a steel cage." He pointed at the map. "That's where we enter, we take out the guards and let the rest of the troops in. The bars themselves we can't do anything about but we can break the wall around them, if we take a few strong men with hammers, we might be able to smash through." "That would create a lot of noise, you'd wake the whole castle." Garlan pointed out, Robb grinned. "That's why we're going to build siege engines." The lords filling the tent slowly smiled as they saw his point. "Well played." Robb nodded at the praise and turned to Lord Forrester. "Has there been word from Highpoint?" "Yes, my lord. Gared reports that Ludd Whitehill and his forces are detained as ordered." "Good. I mean to send an envoy to negotiate with the Boltons and give us some idea of what's going on." The tent erupted in protest. "But, my lord!" "That would make us seem weak!" Robb slammed a fist on the table and silence fell. "That is precisely the plan. If Roose thinks we don't want to fight, he may very well let his guard down a little." That seemed to satisfy most of the men and women in the tent.

Garlan was struck by how quickly Robb was able to restore order as he voiced the rest of his plan. He commanded respect that Garlan had never seen before, he could see why Robb was almost a legend among those who had served under him. It felt odd to Garlan, who considered himself a reasonably competent leader given his lack of actual field command experience, that he felt like almost looking up to the hardened men and women who sat beside him and at their head was a man his baby sister's age, who his baby sister was married to. And that in itself was something that stood out about Robb Stark. Garlan had been there when his grandmother had twisted his father's arm into making the betrothal. 

_"Oh, for goodness' sake, Mace! How long is it going to take before you get it into your thick skull? Robert is never going to marry Margaery! Nor will he be willing to give his son to her! That's what happens when you join the wrong side of a war!" Lord Tyrell puffed up considerably, "Are you suggesting that Robert Baratheon has gone celibate?!" "Well, clearly he's lost some of his former vigour if he didn't start whoring the second he got back to King's Landing! You tried to get Margaery into the bed of a man who drove his wife to incest so she could get some pleasure. How will it look if Margaery goes to King's Landing and Loras joins the Kingsguard?! Even the notion of a match between our families will be laughed out of court." "Well, do you have any other suggestions?" "I do. If we can't get to the king, why not the king's hand?" "Jon Arryn is dead. We're not marrying her to his son, I doubt he'd live to bed her even if we did." "But Robert will need a Hand. Who will he turn to but his old friend, Eddard Stark?" "Stark's the most honourable man in the realm and you want him to drop the mother of his five children and marry her?" Mace had the gall to sound mocking and was rewarded with a slap. Everyone in the room stared at her. "Don't ever speak of her like that. I wasn't suggesting she marry Lord Stark." Garlan caught on quickly. "Robb Stark." "See, Mace, even Garlan gets these things better than you do. Robb Stark is the heir to Winterfell and the North, he's young, well liked by most everyone who's met him, a proven battle commander who has the respect of practically every soldier in Westeros. He's the perfect match for her." "If he's as great as you say he is, he may not be as open to Margaery. You know what Stark and his wife are like, if their progeny is anything like them they'll be stiffer than you say your back is!" "He's young, Mace and his father is appallingly naïve. Margaery will have him wrapped around her little finger before they're even married."_ That had convinced him. Garlan smiled as he realised that Margaery probably did have Robb Stark around her little finger, though he had a sneaking suspicion that that was because he wanted to be.


	64. A flayed man none.

"Nephew, I've managed to get some information out of our guest. It appears that the Boltons have another ally." Robb pinched the bridge of his nose, Another one? "Littlefinger?" Brynden nodded with an eyebrow raised, "You knew?" "I suspected he might be involved somehow." "But it's good news. Baelish has... loved your mother as long as anyone can remember." "And Lysa has loved him even longer, gods know why. I've heard the rumours about her affair with him but I never knew she would marry him." "Most of the Vale would be up in arms, they wed in secret. I suppose Littlefinger could never have Cat, her sister was the next best thing with the title of Lord Protector of the Vale that came with the marriage as a bonus. The important thing is that Baelish will not let anything to your mother." "He may not have much influence anymore, he's no longer Master of Coin." "The Boltons needed the Arryns, that's enough for them."

"Lord Stark, the envoy's back." Robb stood and rushed out of the tent with Garlan and Brynden by his side. "Bring him to the command tent, summon the council." The envoy had to be helped to the table, he was pale and shaking badly. "What happened?" "He's been sick, my lord." The man took a few breaths and looked at Robb, "I went to the gate and they just let me in..." Robb and Garlan exchanged a glance. "Then they took the reigns of my horse from me and led me to the stables and... Ramsay Snow was there. I asked to see his lord father and he just laughed. He said 'Why don't you look up?' So I did and Roose Bolton was there. They put him on a rack and flayed him then they dangled him from the rafters." He gagged and spat into a nearby bucket. "He told me to tell you to give up your pups and he wouldn't turn you into a pelt." "Get him back home, he's done enough." Robb told the guards. The tent was filled with silence as the men and women inside contemplated the revelation until Robb picked up a chair and threw it at a cabinet, smashing it. He took a few deep breaths and went over to the map. "I'd have thought this was a good thing." Garlan felt very confused and almost like he was intruding on a private moment. "No, it's not good. It's the opposite of good." "Surely the Boltons will not win if they kill their own leader!" One of the lords exclaimed. "If Roose Bolton did claim the title of Warden, he might have legitimized his son! If Ramsay is the one calling the shots he might have legitimized himself, either way doesn't matter. Ramsay Snow is Lord of the Dreadfort!" The implication seemed to set in. "Oh, fuck me." Someone muttered. "Ser Garlan, ready the men. We attack tonight."


	65. Attempts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic rape scene in the fifth paragraph.

"What does it feel like?" Margaery was slightly taken aback by her brother-in-law's question. "Carrying a child? It's wonderful and very uncomfortable at the same time. I can't speak for every woman who's ever been with child but for me, all the pain is worth it when you remember that it's to bring a tiny little thing that is both you and the one you love. You may never know what it's like to carry a child, Bran, but you will appreciate that it is worth the struggle when you hold your own children in your arms one day. Robb's a completely different person when we talk about it, he's like Summer is when you take him out to play, he's just happy... Of course, it's figuratively and literally a pain in the back. Speaking of which..." She groaned and massaged her back as best she could, she wished Robb was here to help her, to rub the knots from her muscles while idly chatting about the household or the wolves or regaling her with stories from hs childhood. "Go on, don't let me keep you from having fun." She smiled as he left her room. "Seven hells." She groaned as she lowered herself into the chair at Robb's desk. Her foot touched something furry and Grey Wind stuck his head out from underneath the desk. "Budge up, you." Margaery laughed and scratched his head, it was easy to see how Robb could love the wolf. A noise from her bedroom made her jump. "Stay." She whispered quietly to Grey Wind, standing up to investigate. "Dacey? Lya?" She called out, the window was open. Strange, she thought she'd closed it. Margaery heard a lock snap and gasped as she felt a dagger against her belly. "Well, hello. My lovely."

Jon was woken by the sound of a scream, at first he ignored it. He heard screams all the time in his dreams ever since Hardhome. He sat up as a second scream sounded, definitely real. Grabbing his sword and cloak, Jon rushed outside. The commotion in the courtyard had woken other brothers as well and Jon pushed his way to the front. He almost gagged at what he saw. Joffrey had been strapped to a makeshift rack and was being flayed. The flesh on his back was almost gone, little flaps hung off here and there. "Let him down!" Jon roared, devoid of any emotion other than disgust. The Bolton men all laughed and waved their swords in the air mockingly, "Ooooh, he's a scary bastard, ain't he boys?" "Let's see how many orders you'll be giving once we've had your tongue, bastard!" They drew their swords and started cutting men down. Jon drew Longclaw and jumped over the wooden railing. By then, the other sworn brothers had recovered and were defending themselves with their own weapons. "This ends now." He made quick work of the two who lunged at him. Blocking another strike and kicking the man's legs out from under him, he spun and threw his cloak over his left arm as a shield against their blades. Jon watched Dolourous Edd push an assailant off the platform and saw Jack fall to the floor with blood pouring out of his throat. Before Jon could reach his killer, an arrow sprouted from his chest. Jon turned and saw Sam with a bow in his hand. "Go!" Sam yelled and nocked another arrow.

"Quiver, is eveything ready?" Robb glanced at the heir to Rillwater Crossing, "Yes, my lord. We're ready." Robb nodded and looked down at the Wolf helmet then the locket, which he tucked into his hauberk, then the ring on his finger. He kissed it and put his gloves on and put the helmet on for the first time. He had to admit that the craftsmanship was excellent and his head felt comfortable. Garlan stood outside in his green and gold armour with a black poncho, placing his sword in its sheath and slung a longbow around his arm. "On your command, brother." He had to speak up over the sound of "siege engines" being built. "Follow me." Robb led the group to the stream, keeping to the shadows and bushes. It reminded him of his time in the Westerlands, when his guerilla tactics had helped to push the Lannisters all the way to Lannisport. "Smalljon." The Umber heir hefted a warhammer while Quiver forced a chisel into one of the cracks in the wall. Robb had known Smalljon for many years and fought bside him countless times but even he was surprised by how quickly he got the job done. Robb and Quiver grunted as they pushed the bars free. They crawled through the gap, Robb had to pull Garlan back to avoid being spotted, Garlan nodded his thanks. The group made good progress to the gatehouse and climbed the stairs with bows at the ready. Robb fired one arrow through the eye of the first guard and Garlan dispatched the second with an arrow to the neck. He held up a fist at the door to the gate controls. "What in seven hells is Stark doing? He'll wake the bloody stranger at this rate." "Shut up, Britt. I don't give two shits about what the boy's doing so long as we hold the gate." "Sorry to disappoint you." Robb cut them down with ruthless efficiency. "Help me with this." He and Quiver took one end of the wheel while Garlan and Smalljon took the other. Robb took a torch from the wall and dropped it from the tower, giving the all-clear to attack. The sound of chopping down trees and bashing wood together immediately ceased as the men advanced. "Arthur, make sure the gate stays open. Smalljon, Garlan, we need to clear the wall of archers. Take the west side, I'll take the east." 

"'And who are you?' The proud lord said, 'that I must bow so low? Only a cat of a different coat, that's all the truth I know.'" The soldier entering the Dreadfort sang as they met the forces pouring from the gate. Robb and two other men rushed around the wall, killing the archers targeting them when an arrow went straight through the man to his left's leather and mail, puncturing his heart, the other gave a groan behind him and as Robb turned he saw Ramsay Snow lunge with a maniacal grin on his face. Caught completely off guard, Robb gave a strangled grunt as a knife went through his armor and mail and into his stomach. His breath hitched as the knife twisted and he fell to one knee. "Nice helmet." He gave the knife in his stomach on last twist and Robb groaned as blood poured out of his wound. He couldn't do anything as Ramsay swung his sword but feel it cut into his face.

Arya perched on one of the cleaner anvils in the forge, waiting for Gendry to come from the small council. He hated politics yet he forced himself to attend, he was like Robb in that way. Robb, who was fighting a war to free their mother. She'd fallen asleep crying with worry that night. Footsteps shook her thoughts. "You alone in here, little girl?" Arya forced herself not to punch him for that. "My betrothed will be here any minute now. If you want to speak to him, go to the small council chamber or wait outside the forge." "Actually, little girl, I'm here for you." Before Arya could process the sentence, he grabbed her and slammed her onto the floor. She felt her arm break on impact and a whimper escaped her lips as she tried to move her shoulder. Her attacker hauled her up and pushed her up against the wall. She felt the chains he put around her wrists behind her back and gagged her. "The Warden of the North wants you dead, but let's just say I always play with my food before eating." She saw the lust in his eyes as he scanned her body again. She could feel his cock harden through her clothes. "Won't need this." He pushed her skirt up and tore her smallclothes away. Arya prepared herself mentally for what was going to happen, crying out as he spanked her harder than anyone ever had. Her arm was already slightly swollen and Arya felt tears prick her eyes as his hands moved around, groping her chest and grabbing the collar, tearing it away so it flapped beneath her and her breasts spilled out, the man ran a hand down her bare back and the other squeezed her breasts until it hurt. She closed her eyes and gasped as he angled himself correctly while one hand grabbed at her crotch, sending sensations through her, waiting for him to enter her. Arya definitely felt him touch her opening with his head before the door flew off it's hinges with a loud bang.


	66. Fever

Ned and Gendry stormed out of the council chamber. "How is it possible that Varys can tell you the contents of Jalabhar Xho's chamber pot and yet can't seem to find even a hint as to how many houses have joined the Boltons?" Ned ranted angrily. "Ned, if there's one thing that I could tell you even without being at that meeting, it's that Varys doesn't know everything. Or that he just doesn't tell us, I trust him about as far as he can piss." Ned suppressed a snort as they climbed the stairs of the Tower of the Hand. "Speaking of, could I borrow your privy?" "Yes, of course. Your grace, shall I summon the Groom of the Stool?" "The shittest job in history." Gendry chuckled. "Did your father ever tell you how Robb got into Casterly Rock? He took a small group of men, including Tyrion Lannister, and snuck in via the sewers. Robert call them the brown cloaks afterward." Gendry doubled over laughing. "The shittest soldiers in Westeros! That is very my father." He climbed into the privy. 

Ned dropped the ledger he'd been holding on to his desk, chuckling. A noise made him look up in time to see a man pointing a crossbow at him, dodging as he fired. "Ned!" Gendry yelled from the other room. The attacker swore and threw the now useless crossbow at Ned and drew his dagger. Ned drew his longsword from it's sheath and fell into a defensive stance. He made a few jabs at the other man and then swung. Unfortunately, he was out of practice and the dagger found it's mark on his leg and he fell. "Lord Bolton sends his regards." Just before he could stab Ned, Gendry smashed through the door and snapped his neck. "Arya." Ned groaned as he pressed the wound on his leg. "Go!" Gendry sprinted through the corridors to the forge, vaulting over a bannister and down the stairs. When he reached the forge, he heard someone say, "Won't need this." He tried the door and kicked it straight off it's hinges. He froze at what he saw. Arya was pinned to the wall, almost naked save for the remains of a dress at her stomach. Her hands were chained behind her back and there was a rag in her mouth. The man pinning her to the wall had a hand squeezing her breast and his cock between her legs. Arya's shoulder looked swollen and she had tears streaming down her cheeks. A white hot rage seared through Gendry and he pounced, grabbing him by the neck and throwing him into an armor rack. He kicked him in the stomach and dragged him over to the furnace, uncovering it and throwing him inside, ignoring the screams of agony and desparation. He unchained Arya and took the gag from her mouth. "It's alright. I'm here." She curled up to him and sobbed, Gendry touched her back and Arya lifted her lips to his. "I love you." She whispered. Gendry wasn't sure how to respond to that so he simply replied, "And I you." He took off his shirt and put it around her to cover her up. "Let's get your arm looked at."


	67. Bowels in or bowels out?

His face was numb. Blood obscured one of his eyes but he could still see Ramsay pull the sword out of his helmet. "Nice helmet, Stark. I'll mount it with your head still inside, right next to your wolves and your family." Robb gagged and spat out a mouthful of blood. "I must admit that this is a bit anticlimactic. I wanted you to swear fealty in my hall in front of my witnesses, I even commissioned some bards to make a song of the discussion." He yanked Robb up to face him. "It's funny, isn't it? Our houses have warred since before the dragons came. Gallons of blood, thousands of years and all it took to make _you_ bend the knee was a little cut. Robb gasped as he pulled the knife from his stomach and coughed up some more blood. "Of course, we still require insurance. Swear an oath here and now and I will let you keep your brothers. Speaking of which, how many of my men did you send to the Wall? 20? 30? Are you sure Jon Snow can handle them?" Robb looked up at the madman. "Where is my mother?" Ramsay punched him, "I asked you a question." "Yes. Your turn." He struggled to his feet, the knife in his hand. "She's currently enjoying supper with Lord Baelish." Blood trickled down his hand from his belly to a puddle on the floor. "We met via... Mutual friends. He wants revenge, I want revenge, it was a perfect match. The first thing we discussed was wiping the Starks from the face of the earth." Robb met his gaze with the one eye that still worked, realising the implications. "No. No, you didn't..." Ramsay flashed him a sadistic grin, Robb stared at him for a moment. He lunged at Ramsay and tried to stab him with the knife, Ramsay caught his arm and punched his wound. The pain made him drop it and Ramsay picked it up and stabbed him in the cheek, leaving it buried to the hilt just below his eye. Robb could barely stand, let alone fight any longer. He glanced at the edge of the wall. "Forgive me, Margaery." He tackled Ramsay, taking him by surprise and sending them both over the edge. The last thing Robb saw before his world went black was his and Margaery's chambers, under the table. "Grey Wind."

"Ain't you a lovely little rose?" The man looked her over and took a step forward. "Scream and I'll gut your little brat before you." She nodded. "I'm in no hurry, milady. Why don't we have some fun?" She didn't move as he put his hand between her legs. "Are you wet already?" Margaery's eyes widened, "I suppose what they say about you is true. The Whore of Highgarden." Margaery felt her bump contract and felt a trickle down her legs. He noticed as well, "Or? Are you whelping?" Margaery gasped as pain wracked her body. No, no,no! It hasn't been nine months! She reached behind her for anything to attack with. Her hand closed around a scalpel that Robb used to make quills. "Is there anyone else here, bitch?" "No, it's just me and well, the baby." She moved to the bed as he moved to search the room. "Seven hells!" Grey Wind jumped on him. "Dacey!" She screamed as the wolf mauled the intruder and the door flew open. "Get the maester!"

Garlan removed his helmet and wiped the sweat off his brow. The Dreadfort was secure besides the dungeons ehich had been barricaded, though nobady had seen Robb since he left the gatehouse. "Do you mean to tell me that Robb Stark has vanished off the face of the earth?" This day would haunt him for the rest of his life if he returned to Margaery without Robb. "Check the corpse carts, the wounded, look in the fucking privy, I don't give a fuck where he is, just find him!" He roared at his men. 

Brynden Tully smashed through the door with an axe. "See? Not so fucking difficult, hm?" The soldiers at least had the decency to look sheepish. He made his way through the dungeon with a torch in his hand, listening out for signs of life. A distant grunt made him run as quietly as he could down the corridor. He followed the sound till it stopped and looking through the cell bars, he saw why. Catelyn was on her front, her skirt hiked up around her waist. His legs almost gave out when he saw Baelish was in there as well. By the gods, he raped her! He kicked the door open and Baelish grabbed Catelyn, holding her to him. "One step and she dies." Brynden could see the insanity in his eyes and voice. "Petyr, let her go. She's done nothing to you. You are a brother to her, please don't do this." "This isn't about her! If you want someone to blame, go to Ned Stark! If it wasn't for him-" "You were embezzling from the crown, Petyr. Ned had no choice." "Pah! The King's Hand doesn't have a choice!" "Petyr..." Catelyn's voice was scratchy and raw. Petyr held her tighter, "I want safe passage to the Eyrie, I want a royal decree from the the hand of Robert himself returning my lands, riches and titles to me. And I want Stark's youngest son as hostage." The terms would have made Brynden laugh in different circumstances. "Petyr, I can't do that. It's too much, just surrender and nobody dies." Petyr flashed a wicked grin, "Somebody has to die." He slit Catelyn's throat. "No!" Brynden slammed him into a wall and bent over Catelyn. "Cat, Cat! Stay with me! Stay with me!"

Garlan had started to despair when Brynden finally emerged from the dungeons, holding the limp form of Catelyn Stark in his arms. "Littlefinger is still down there. I want him taken to Winterfell to face justice for what he's done." Garlan nodded and signalled his men to go in, he turned toward the wall and something in the shadows caught his eye. He approached it and gasped as he saw Robb slumped against the wall, his leg bent and broken and twisted just like Wilias's leg had been when he fell from his horse and a dagger was sticking out of his face. "Somebody help! Get a maester!" He roared as he ran to Robb's side. He wasn't wearing his helmet and Garlan saw two thick lines oozing blood over his face, blood dripped from his nose and he had his hand covering yet another wound on his stomach. He checked for a pulse. "He's still alive!" He told the Blackfish as the older man knelt beside him.

"Alright, Lady Margaery. I need you to push for me." Margaery screamed. She called for Robb, for Catelyn, for her mother, for Loras. Eventually she was rewarded with the crying of a baby and she had never heard a more wonderful sound but before could take her newborn, a fresh stab of pain raced through her and she blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think of Robb as in the same position as Jon Snow is in the Season 6 teaser image.  
> Also, I want to make it clear that Lady Stoneheart will NOT be in this story. At all, so don't ask for her.


	68. Non l'avrei giammi creduto

His face burned. The rest of him felt numb, but his face was on fire. "Margaery." Robb moaned, "Come on, Stark! Don't die on me! If you die you'll make the worst enemy you could possibly imagine." Robb grunted his response and his vision blurred again. He turned his head again and suddenly he wasn't lying in a cart with a bandaged face but lying on a battlefield with an arrow in his shoulder. 

Robb looked up as he felt hands on his arm. "Who are you?" He whispered, almost delirious. "A friend. I need to clean your wound before it gets infected." A woman with brown hair and a slight accent that Robb couldn't pintpoint. "Oh, don't worry. I'm not a Lannister." She was quite beautiful. "What's your name?" He gasped as she pulled out half of the arrow. "Talisa Maegyr, ser. You must be Robb Stark, Robert's secret weapon." Robb gave a hollow chuckle. "Is that what they call me now? Aye, I'm Robb Stark. It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Talisa." She shook his hand. "Where do you hail from, if I may?" She raised an eyebrow, "I come from Volantis. My family is nobility there." Robb frowned and looked at his shoulder. "Why come here?" Talisa looked taken aback. "I..." "I'm sorry if I was too direct." She shook her head, "No! No, of course not. It's rsther a long story. I'm sure you'll get bored." Robb sat up and put a hand on her arm. "I've no plans for this evening." Talisa glanced at his hand and licked her lips. "Alright, I lied. It's a simple reason really. When I was a child, my brother and I were in a river when he started to drown. As you may know, Volantis is a major part of the slave trade in Essos. We had a eunuch slave with us. I couldn't do anything to help my brother, but the slave did. He waded out and picked up my brother and brought him back to shore, he thumped his chest and kissed him and then my brother woke up. We were brought up being told that slaves were inferior, less than dirt and far cheaper than worms. Yet this man, this eunuch, out of the kindness of his heart, risked his life for my brother where others would let him drown. That was when I realised who was truly inferior." Robb stared for a moment and cleared his throat, "And you swore not to live in a city like that." Talisa nodded. He smiled and kissed her hand. "Well, Talisa Maegyr, you are perhaps the most remarkable woman I know." He stood up, "Thank you for the assistance." 

A few days later, she came to his tent asking about medical supplies. As Robb sat down to look over the scout reports, she'd brushed her hand against his and soon they were chatting animatedly. She became more and more direct until she'd kissed his cheek, or pretended to try to, and ended up with her lips to his. After that, they spent their nights together, though nothing dishonourable happened. 

Robb frowned as he saw the cart, the one Talisa had taken, on it's side. He dismounted and rushed to the wreckage. "Talisa!" He didn't care what the men made of his reaction. Talisa lay, holding her stomach, trying to stop the bleeding. "Gods! What happened?" He rushed to her side but he could see it was too late, they had no medical supplies. He just stared at her as her blood pooled around her with no emotion showing on his face. He blinked and the image turned to Margaery lying on the ground beside Talisa, bandages appeared in his hands. There's only enough for one. He hesitated and ran to Margaery. When he looked back, Taliisa was gone.

Garlan's teeth chattered as the host reached the gates of Winterfell. His armour was designed for swords and spears and war, not the cold. The gate opened and Maester Luwin stood with Bran and Rickon in the courtyard. "Ser Garlan." "Maester, little lords. Where is my sister?" "She is asleep. I fear that the birth may have overwhelmed Lady Margaery. She should be fine now that Lord Stark has returned. Where is he?" Before Garlan spoke, Rickon yelled. "Where's Mother?! Robb promised he'd find Mother! Where is he and where is my mother?!" Garlan had to steel himself for what he had to say. "Your mother is dead." The horror on their faces was painful to see. "And Robb?" He pointed at a wagon. "I think you should see for yourself. Wait, what do you mean 'the birth?' "She went into labour a few days ago." Luwin gasped in despair as he saw Robb lying in the wagon. "Get him to my quarters, now!"

Margaery groaned and wiped her forehead, looking at the courtyard to see Robb return triumphant. Her knees almost gave out when she saw the stretcher they were carrying. She threw a gown on and stormed out of the room. "My lady--" "Shut up!" She pushed past him and almost ran to the maester's quarters. Two guards stepped forward, "Get out of my way!" "My lady, your brother--" "I will deal with my brother, you worry about your jobs." She snapped and didn't wait for an answer before barging in. "Robb!' She rushed to his side. "Lady Margaery, I beg of you, leave us." "Sister, please." Margaery shot them a look that would curdle milk and grasped his hand tightly. "What happened to him." "Nobody saw exactly what happened, we just found him? I think he fell off a wall." "And falling off a wall caused these?!" She pointed at his face. Luwin looked up from what he was doing, "He was found with a dagger sticking out of his face. He also suffered a severely broken leg and may very well lose a kidney. Though I can say with certainty that he will never be able to fight in battle again." 

Ned read the message over and over for hours. Catelyn was dead. Killed by Littlefinger, if accounts were correct. He felt a tear slide down his cheek and gulped another cup of wine. The mother of his children, the love of his life, his greatest companion. He thought of Robb, lying wounded on the ground, hovering between life and death, the soldier they had made. Sansa, the perfect little lady with her perfect smiles and perfect manners and perfect, red hair. Arya, Lyanna reincarnate. Bran, the sweet little boy who wants nothing more than to be a knight. Rickon, the wild little thing. Ned sighed and scratched his wound, standing up and picking up his sword belt. He made his way to Varys. Ned slammed the eunuch into a wall and held his sword at his throat. "You knew where he was." It wasn't a question. "I did not see the need to impart a mere rumour upon your already strenous timetable." Ned punched him. "My wife is dead! My son is crippled! My daughter was nearly raped and you didn't think to give me a snippet of information that I personally requested?!" Ned took a breath. "Robert will hear of this, and when he does, he will destroy you." "Power resides where men believe it resides, Lord Stark. I told you, Robert's light is fading. The dragon is reborn." Ned resisted the urge to behead him there and then. "Seize him." He called the guards.

Garlan watched Margaery as she took Robb's hand in hers. "Margaery, I think you should go be with..." He trailed off before the look on her face softened and she stroked Robb's cheek. "You truly love him, don't you?" Margaery didn't move for a moment before speaking, her voice cracking. "How could I not? He's the perfect man for me, or anyone." Garlan tilted his head slightly, "I just wanted to be sure. It's hard to tell with you these days." Margaery wrapped her arm around his shoulder and hugged him. "I know. Grandmother taught me too well." She chuckled. "When I met him, he looked a statue. I was half expecting a bird to shit on him." They laughed at the thought. "Winter is Coming. Perhaps the most honest house words the world has ever seen." "Winter is Coming but the Tyrells are Growing Strong, little sister." Margaery nodded, "To answer your earlier question, yes. I do love him with all my heart." 

Where am I now? Robb opened his eyes and found his sight blocked by bandages. He felt someone stroke his cheek and heard his wife's voice. "I do love him with all my heart." He would have smiled but his facial muscles twitched without moving. "Margaery." He whispered. "Robb? Nod if you can hear me." He nodded. "Help me get these bandages off of him." "My lady, that would be inadvisable given your husband's injuries." "I've seen scars before, maester. I even counted Robb's scars." "His wounds are--" "I don't care how his wounds are, I want to see him." Before she started shouting, Robb thumped the bed and sat up. "Take them off." Luwin hesitated and started unwrapping the bandages. "I suppose my promise not to change is in smithereens." Margaery smiled, "You came back, that's the most important thing. And with a beard." She ran her hand along his jaw, feeling the stubble there. "Ah!" Robb exclaimed as he shifted his weight. "How is it?" Margaery looked at his scars. One ran down his forehead, past his eye and ended on his cheek. "That helmet saved my life." He pointed at the wolf helmet, which had a gash and sharp edges protruding from it. The sharp edges had cut his face even more and there was a thick scab under his eye where the knife had been thrust.

"Injuries aside, is everyone alright?" They all nodded. "Good, remind me to thank Dacey and Grey Wind... I want to go to my own chambers." "Robb, you can't walk. Look at your leg." Robb looked and saw the cast on it. "I regret, Lord Stark, that you will no longer be fit for battle ever again. You won't be able to walk unassisted for a long time though as I understand, you have two people here who have experience with this sort of thing." Robb insisted on moving, so Margaery supported him as they made their way in. Robb dismissed everyone as he lay down, except Margaery. She waited for him to lie down on their bed before carefully moving over him. He sat up and pulled her down to him. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "Shush. No apologizing." She kissed him, hands in his hair while Robb stroked her jaw. "How's the baby?" Margaery gasped that she'd forgotten. "I'll be right back." She rushed down the corridor to the nursery. "Come on, you. We're going to see your father.

Robb scratched his chin and looked up as Grey Wind entered with Bran and Summer at his side. "How was being the lord?" "Boring." Robb chuckled. "That it is, little brother." The door opened and Margaery entered with a bundle in her arms. "Robb, this is Harlan." Robb smiled and took the bundle. "Hello, little Harlan." His son had Margaery's eyes and nose and ears. "Hang on, I thought we were going to call our first son Torrhen?" Margaery grinned mischievously, "We did." A handmaiden entered with another bundle. Margaery took the bundle and sat next to Robb. "You were right, my love. We have twins." Robb felt tears in his eyes as he looked at his two sons. "Torrhen, say hello to your father." Margaery bounced the little boy up and down. Torrhen simply moved his hand to her hair. "No pulling Mother's hair, little man." Robb laughed at his antics. "Do you think they know who we are?" "Of course they do." He rubbed his nose against Harlan's and a knock on the door almost made them jump. "You weren't expecting me to leave without meeting my nephews, were you?" Garlan grinned broadly at his sister. "Congratulations, Margaery. How does motherhood feel?" "Sore, but it's worth it." Robb looked around and saw Bran had fallen asleep. "Poor thing. He loses his mother and now he has to pretend he's happy." Margaery mused. "Speaking of. I recieved word that the other dissidents have surrendered. Karhold and Barrowton are under our control, I had thought to grant them to Bran and Rickon. I want the Dreadfort torn down." Margaery held her son a little tighter, "What of the soldiers we captured?" "Hang them for the world to see. Set an example that will last a generation." Margaery put her hand on his shoulder. "Robb, sometimes mercy is a virtue. Remember what I said when you left, don't become Roose Bolton by playing at his game. Send them to the Wall. Jon probably needs reinforcements after the mutinies he's putting down." Robb slowly nodded.


	69. Grief

Ned and Arya rode through the gates at Riverrun to be greeted by Edmure Tully. "Ned, Arya." He sounded hollow. "We're ready to go." They changed horses as Nymeria howled and a thousand howled in response. The party rode north up the Kingsroad, shadowed by wolves every step of the way.

Robb tried to stand on his leg and toppled immediately. Luwin helped him back up, "It is as I feared. Your leg simply took too much to recover completely. The same goes for your face, those scars may never heal. The good news is that you're very much alive and, given your injuries, making an impressive recovery. I've known men to die from wounds half as serious as this." "Thank you, Maester. May I see my sons?" "You don't need to request my permission, Lord Stark. I think your wife may resist you but that is understandable given what happened." Robb was about to try to stand again when Margaery enetered the room. "The boys are asleep so I thought I'd give this to you." She held out a cane with a silver wolf on the handle. "I had this made while you were recovering. It's made of ironwood and weirwood, I thought you might prefer something northern." She threw him the cane. Robb caught it and examined it. It was so well made that he might have thought it to be one solid chunck of wood apart from the different colours, dark brown and white, that spiraled down it. "It's beautiful, Margaery. Thank you." Margaery smiled, "You protected us all, it's the least I can do." Robb stood with the cane in his left hand, leaning on it. "Good. Just keep at it, you'll get the hang of it in no time."

Robb began preparing for the funeral. He'd distracted himself for long enough, now he would greive. He sat next to the crib that the twins shared. "Torrhen has your hair." Margaery said absentmindedly, "Her hair." She sat on the floor, between his legs as he stroked her hair. "And Harlan has my hair. Both of them have your father's eyes." She sighed as he massaged her scalp. "Wilias sent me a few suggestions that might make you feel better." "My lord?" A servant popped her head in the doorway. "There's a party coming from the coast, flying Greyjoy banners." Robb and Margaery looked at each other. "Sansa."

Sure enough, a wagon pulled into the courtyard not an hour later and a heavily pregnant redhead climbed out. Robb and Margaery approached her with the twins. "Sansa." Robb put his free arm around his sister. "It's so good to see you both." She murmured into his shoulder. "Sister. My, how big you've gotten!" "How far along?" "Seven months. Theon apologizes for not being here but he just can't be here... Can I see her?" "Father's already in there." Robb closed his eyes and breathed in, holding Margaery tightly. Lady, Grey Wind, Summer, Shaggydog and Nymeria howled. That night, Lady Catelyn Stark was laid to rest in the crypts of Winterfell. Robb and Ned personally lifted her into the coffin. Robb grunted and leaned heavily on his cane as emotion overtook him, Margaery rushed to support him as his body shook with sobs. She didn't leave his side, the twins had been put to bed so she could stay with him. He sat down on the bed, still almost frozen with grief. Margaery wrapped her arms around him, "Robb, you can let it go. You know that you can trust me." He still didn't say anything so she shifted around and cupped his face. "Please, Robb." She pressed her lips to his and he finally moved, lifting her onto her back and positioned himself over her. "Tell me if you want to stop." Margaery nodded and pulled him back down. "Don't stop. I want you." She ran her fingers through his beard. "You look very handsome with a beard, you know." He smiled, "Careful, you might make me a bit vain if you keep this up." Margaery chucked and unbuttoned his shirt. "I merely tell the truth, my love." "I suppose I should apologise in advance if my leg renders me unsatisfactory in bed." He commented, only half in jest. "You could never not satisfy me, my wolf. I hold you to your promise, we will try whatever we like."

**"How can I rule seven kingdoms if I can't control Slaver's Bay? I will not sail to Westeros. I will remain, I will do what queens do. I will rule."**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed that some writers offer alternative casting choices for various characters so I thought I'd offer one as well. Robert Carlyle as Petyr Baelish. What do you guys think about that?


	70. Wedding Bells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **5 years later**

"Torrhen, come on. Do it for me." Arya looked at her nephew imploringly. "Even Cat's eating her beans." "You're a fine one to talk, Arya. I remember Robb telling me they had to force feed you whenever they served up certain vegetables." Margaery pointed out with an eyebrow raised, making the younger woman blush. Margaery helped her daughter eat the last of her food and lifted her onto her lap. "Can I sit too?" Harlan asked. "Sorry, Harlan. When you're the little one, you get the better seat. Why don't you sit with Aunt Arya? I'm sure she's just as comfortable. Or..." She put her hand around her ear as a tapping sound came from the hall. "Who's that?" "Father!' The boys exclaimed excitedly. "Sorry I'm late, boys and girls. I was in the market and the gates got stuck again." Robb ruffled Torrhen's hair and sat next to his wife. "Torrhen won't eat his beans." Harlan pointed at his brother's plate. "Torrhen, please eat your beans. Harlan, don't tell tales on your brother." Robb kissed Margaery's cheek and smiled at Arya. "So, how do you feel?"

Arya blushed and stared at her hands. "Nervous." She blurted out and clamped a hand over her mouth. Robb and Margaery laughed at the blush spreading through her cheeks. "It's quite alright to be nervous, Arya." Margaery patted her arm, "I was a wreck when I walked into the Godswood to wed Robb." She poked Robb, "Oh, yes. Very nervous." He muttered into his cup. "Father, why did you marry Mother?" She turned to her eldest son and Robb hesitated. "Because your grandparents agreed it. We were betrothed nearly a year before you were born." "Aunt Arya?" Arya looked up from her plate. "Were you betrothed too?" Arya nodded, "I was betrothed the day your parents were, little cub. I'm getting married today." Torrhen and Harlan gasped melodramatically, making Robb and Margaery chuckle. "Can we come?" "Of course you can, Harlan. Cat will be in bed but you two can be with us in the sept if you behave and can stay awake." He laughed as Harlan pulled his eyes further open. "Don't do that, Harlan. You'll hurt your eyes." Margaery reprimanded gently. "Do you have a mother or father, Mother?" "My father is called Mace, you'll meet him later." "Why doesn't he visit like Grandfather Ned?" "He lives too far away, darling. That's why we send ravens to people we want to talk to." 

"Good morning, sis." Garlan and Loras walked with a wide grin on their faces. "Loras, Garlan." Margaery embraced her brothers. "Good gods! Are those your sons?" Garlan exclaimed as he shook Robb's hand. "Who are they, Father?" Robb chuckled, "This is Ser Loras and Ser Garlan, they're your mother's brothers." "I saw you two when you were very small." Harlan frowned, "But I don't know you." "You were too small to remember, little cub." Loras mussed Harlan's hair. "So, your soon-to-be grace, having cold feet?" Arya glared daggers at him. "Shut up." Robb, Loras and Garlan nearly collapsed with laughter. "I knew it! The fearsome Arya Stark, brought to her knees by the thought of being a queen!" "I still kicked your arse on the training ground, Flower Boy!" Margaery and Robb stared at Loras. "She beat you?" Loras blushed furiously. "I was taking it easy on her." "He was sweating." Margaery raised an eyebrow at her brothers, "Well, it's a good thing the Kingsguard serves for life, otherwise you'd be out of a job, Loras." She stood with Cat in her arms. "Since you're here, can you manage to hold Cat or does Arya need to do that too?" Robb snorted into his cup. "Alright, you've made your point, sis. I just came to give a heads up that Grandmother seems to be set on seeing you as if her life depended on it." "It probably does need saving from the abject stupidity your father oozes, Loras." Olenna Tyrell walked in, flanked by the servants she called Left and Right. "Grandmother." Margaery embraced the old woman. "Yes, yes. Good to see you too, gel. Tell me the North hasn't frozen your wits." Robb smiled. "Her wits are as sharp as ever, Lady Olenna." "Ah, the famous Young Wolf. Or is it the Wounded Wolf now?" "I quite frankly don't keep track. It's like getting a new name every week. Of course, none of mine surpass the infamous Queen of Thorns." Olenna smiled. "I like this one, Margaery. I must allow that the betrothal was one of my best ideas. Now, move aside. Let me see my great-grandchildren." She squinted at Torrhen and Harlan. "Your father went through the roof when he heard you'd had twin sons. He was incensed when you stopped replying to his letters." "I burned them all." "Yes, I thought you would have done. I should have had Luthor take the cane to him, whipping boys into shape is very important, gel." Robb frowned, "Forgive me, my lady, but I don't intend to beat anyone with anything, let alone my children." "And here I thought you Starks had hearts of ice." Olenna mused as Cat wrapped her hand around her finger. "Trust me, Grandmother. I've seen what Robb's capable of. He's not a man to trifle with." "Woe betide your father, then. He'll take offense at you using that cane of yours." "It's not Robb's fault that he can't walk without it!" Margaery snapped. "Of course not, gel. I merely say that your father's ego has swelled since his grandson, a Tyrell, will one day be Warden of the North." "We're Starks!" Torrhen yelled indignantly. "I try not to be prejudiced but your father sounds like a despicable man."

"Arya, it's time to get ready." Ned walked in. Arya shrank into her seat slightly. "Now?" "Now." He replied forcefully. "Good luck, Arya!" Ned approached Robb. "Robert wants you to attend a small council meeting tomorrow." "I came here for my sister's wedding, not to get involved in politics." Ned smiled sadly, "Unfortunately, son, everything is politics here in King's Landing." "Remind me to give Jon a good bollocking for not being here!" Arya huffed as she left with her father. "Why don't you go and play for a little, your father and I need to speak to a few people." The twins and Cat went with a servant as the plates were cleared.

"Ah, daughter. There you are." Mace Tyrell stepped into the room with that smug smile on his face. "I have a name, father." Margaery crossed her arms. "I'm not just your pawn, I am an actual person." Robb stood and leaned on his cane. "Lord Tyrell." He greeted curtly. Mace's face went purple as he saw the cane. "Is this some kind of joke, boy?" "Why would this be a joke?" Mace pointed angrily at the cane. "I do not appreciate this mockery of my son's disability, dispose of it immediately." Margaery resisted the urge to punch him. "He needs it to walk, father. Garlan must have told you what happened to him. If you weren't so self absorbed more people might be willing to work with you." Mace changed the subject quickly. "I see your marriage has gone smoothly now that you have sons t--" Margaery snapped and punched him in the jaw. Robb looked at her with an eyebrow raised and nostrils flared. "Don't insult me or my husband by saying we only love each other because we have our boys, father. I've loved him since before we married." "You are my daughter, you are a Tyrell, you will show me some respect!" "Because that's what you've been showing her for this entire conversation." Robb muttered. "I am a Stark of Winterfell. You made sure of that when you married me to Robb. I am myself when I am with him, he makes me feel free. You may have Highgarden and the Reach but you will never have Winterfell. Winter is Coming, father." She stepped into Robb's embrace and took a few deep breaths. Robb stroked her back soothingly and offered his hand to Lord Tyrell. "Would you like some help?"

The Lords and Ladies of Westeros assembled in the Sept of Baelor for the wedding. Theon Greyjoy, Robin Arryn, Doran Martell, Tyrion Lannister, Mace Tyrell, Renly Baratheon and Robb Stark with all of their major bannermen to see the new Princess wed. The King was sat beneath the statue of the Father, High Septon Lancel Lannister to his left, Eddard Stark, Hand of the King stood by the door. Prince Gendry stood on the dais in front of his father. Robb looked down as Torrhen tugged his arm. "I don't know any of the songs." He smiled and whispered in his son's ear. "Neither do I. Don't tell your mother." The little boy smiled and pushed a finger to his lips. Robb's father led Arya down the aisle. "Sansa did a wonderful job on the gown." Margaery whispered, Robb had to agree. It seemed that, to make up for her own wedding, Sansa had pulled out all of the stops to make Arya's as extravagant as possible. The dress was an exquisite mass of grey and white with pearls jangling from the train. Robb smiled at his sister as she passed and the smile he recieved in return was only slightly forced. The vows were exchanged, the songs sung, the cloth wrapped around their hands and Arya Stark became Arya Baratheon.


	71. Yes, Minister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer than I thought it would. I had to rewrite the entire chapter because my draft was rubbish. Hopefully this one is a bit better.

Robb and Ned made their way to the Small Council chamber. "What made you do it? Why tell Robert about Jon?" The question had knawed at Robb for months."Because Robert Baratheon is a good man, a great warrior and a decent king. But he will never be great while he stands in Lyanna's shadow, I wanted to give him closure knowing that she died happy rather than being raped and killed by Rhaegar. Robert deserves to know that, at the least." Robb mulled over that for a second, "And you told Mother so that she knew that she was only woman you loved." "Aye, it was stupid to keep it from her for so long, it was cruel." Robb put a hand on his shoulder, "You did it to protect Jon. I won't say I'd do the same since Margaery would never forgive me, but I understand." Ned nodded, "Thank you, son."

"Lord Stark, so glad you could make it." Varys simpered, as they entered the room. "My lords, Varys." Robert chuckled and motioned for them to sit. "Lord Paxter, how are the new dreadnoughts coming along?" "On schedule, your grace. The Brother's Fury should be complete by the end of the next moon and the rest will follow shortly. Of course, if we had the old ships to salvage we'd have finished by now." Redwyne gave Robb a scathing look. "I made that request on behalf of Jon Snow, the Royal fleet wasn't the only fleet who answered the call. Though I don't remember seeing the Redwyne fleet on the list that Jon sent me." Lord Redwyne went a shade of purple reminiscent of his liege lord but remained silent. "Paxter, I sent the royal fleet north, if you're going to give someone a bollocking, give it to me." Redwyne nodded and backed down. "Now, what are the latest projections from Lannisport and White Harbor?" "Making progress, most of the ships will be ready within the week. Manderly runs a tight operation." "Good, I assume the shipments to the Wall are alright as well. In that case, I want to move on to why Lord Stark is here." Everyone looked at Robb. "Take a look at this." Robb picked up the parchment and flicked through it. "You must be joking." "Do I look like I'm joking?" "Your grace, you want to meet Danaerys Targaryen?" "More accurately, I want you to bring her to Pentos." "Why?" "Because my line will end soon enough, the Baratheons won't hold the throne forever. Gendry will abdicate the moment I'm in the ground and who takes the throne then? Shireen? I want my legacy to be more than tales of the Demon of Trident, Robert Baratheon, The Usurper. I destroyed the Targaryens because I was drunk on love and wine and war. I'm sober now, and dying. Find Danerys and mold her into the ruler Westeros needs."


	72. The Titan

Robb lay with his head on Margaery's legs. "I think you made the right choice." Robb glanced at her face, "It doesn't feel right. Our children need both of us." Margaery massaged his scalp, "Robb, if Danaerys Targaryen attacks Westeros thousands of people will die. Aegon the Conqueror united the Seven Kingdoms under his banner, that union is even stronger now than it was three hundred years ago. Aegon and Robert fought in a divided Westeros, defeating armies one at a time. Danaerys will face the combined might of the whole continent, not to mention her dragons. Gods know what she'll do." Robb pulled her down into his arms. "If it comes to that, I will take care of you." Margaery smiled and kissed him, "I know you will." Almost of it's own accord, his hand trailed down her hip. "Do you want another child?" The question caught him off guard. "I... Don't know. You nearly died when Cat was born, that's not something I can forget. We have our boys and they're a bit of a handful as it is. I don't want to watch you die. I can't risk that, Margaery, I can risk my own life, or the lives of the men who fought and died at my command but never yours. Never you." Margaery nodded and tightened her grip, "I think so too, Torrhen, Harlan and Cat need us. I couldn't leave you alone."

"Be good for your mother while I'm gone, both of you." Robb knelt to embrace his sons. "Where are you going, father?" "On an adventure, little cub." The redfaced toddlers rushed to their mother and hugged her skirts. Margaery held out the hand that wasn't holding Cat. "Be safe, my rose. And you, little fish." He kissed his daughter's forehead and embraced his wife. "See you in Pentos, my wolf." Robb nodded and turned to King Robert and his father. "Your grace, father." He turned on his heel and boarded the ship. He stayed on deck until Westeros was gone from his sight.

"Ser Wolf Lord! We're approaching Braavos!" The Tyroshi captain's proclamation was entirely unnecesary as Robb was standing at the bow of the ship. He rattled his cane on the floor in irritation, "Of course it's Braavos. What other city has a giant fucking statue right in the middle of the bloody port?" He muttered under his breath. The heat was beginning to seriously affect him and he spent most of the voyage inside with a cool cloth on his head wondering how he'd gotten into this mess. "Ser Wolf Lord! We stop for a day to unload our goods and take on supplies! Please feel free to wander Braavos as you please, maybe bring back a girl for the night, no?" Robb forced a smile, "Perhaps another time. I want to get to Meereen as soon as possible." He tossed the captain a coin. "Valar morghulis, captain." "Valar dohaeris, Ser Wolf." At Margaery's suggestion, he'd accompanied Torrhen and Harlan to their High Valyrian lessons with Maester Luwin and had turned out to be quite good at it. He'd started to expand his mind while slowly recovering his body, becoming more learned while working with Ser Rodrik to adapt a fighting style that allowed him to use his sword and his cane in tandem without leaving him completely vulnerable. Robb donned his swordbelt and set off for the nearest inn, relieved to be on dry land again.


	73. Bricks and blood

Robb found the least crowded tavern and sat in the corner. Apparently, Danaerys Targaryen had caused quite a stir among the Free Cities. The people of Braavos, themselves descended from former slaves of the Valyrian Freehold, followed the events in Slaver's Bay closely, trying to gauge what she was and what she wanted. "I hear she's camped up in Meereen, slowly absorbing the souls of those who follow her, cursing her men by seducing them and turning them to mindless husks." "I heard that her dragons have developed a taste for human flesh, burning those who so much as look at her the wrong way." Robb leaned forward, interest piqued."So she has dragons?" He asked in Valyrian. The innkeep snorted, "Just ask the Astapori. City's in ruins. She went to purchase Unsullied and when the Good Masters gave her a price, she attacked them and sacked the city. She tried to leave a council in charge but that went to shit almost immediately. The council got overthrown by a butcher called Cleon, who was then killed by the Wise Masters." Robb grimaced, "Bricks and blood built Astapor, and bricks and blood it's people. That's the saying in Westeros. What of Yunkai?" "Not much better. The Wise Masters seized control as soon as Meereen fell, every freedman was slapped into chains again." That was a serious problem, Danaerys was showing more similarities to Daeron the Young Dragon rather than Aegon the Conqueror. "So she can't hold two cities and she's still not in control of the city she's been ruling for a good year or two now." "And the Yunkai'i aren't letting her forget it. There's a ceasefire in place between them but she's penned in." Shit. "Is there a way to get into Meereen?" “The fighting pits were reopened as part of the treaty, the Yunkai’i are letting fighters and some meager supplies through, though pardon me if I say you don’t seem like the fighting type? You an old soldier from the Golden Company?” He gestured at the cane. 

“No, I’m not a sellsword. I fought in the Westerlands, made a name for myself in the Lannister Rebellion. Then I fought in the North and that’s when I got crippled.” “Oh? What name was that? The Imp? Heard he got a nasty scar or two as well.” Robb’s lip twitched. “No. I met Tyrion Lannister, though. They called me The Young Wolf.” The innkeep’s eyebrows shot up. “Robb Stark?” “Yes.” “You’re something of a legend on military circles. My sons are both braavos and they do like to hear about wars around the world. Your exploits are quite inspirational to them.” “It’s not as exciting as it sounds.” “I beg to differ. Casterly Rock, The Dreadfort. The Targaryen girl would be lucky to have you by her side.” Robb took a swig of rum and nodded, not entirely sure how to answer.


	74. She knows

Skinchanging. Robb had found numerous volumes on the subject. The ability to transfer one’s consciousness into an animal. It was the stuff of legend, a brand of sorcery that died with the dragons, possessed by the children of the forest and the First Men. Nobody believed in that sort of thing anymore. Robb would be a laughing stock if he brought it up with his men and yet, if the rumours about Danaerys Targaryen were true… Jon Snow had also mentioned the Others, Robb had no reason to not believe him. If all that was true, what else was possible? His dreams had aroused his suspicions, he imagined it was perfectly normal to dream about being an animal occasionally but this was something different.

Robb sat back in his chair, rolling his head back. Grey Wind. He focused on the direwolf, closed his eyes. A sensation of weightlessness hit him. For a brief second, he felt like his mind would stretch. Suddenly, he was looking at himself, slumped in the chair, then he jerked away. Crossing the thousands of miles to Winterfell at the speed of thought. 

I see the little cubs, playing with master’s mate. She laughs, but there’s a sadness there that she hides. I can smell it. I sneak up to her and muzzle her cheeks, she laughs again, free and happy this time. The touch reminds her of master. She looks at me and freezes, staring at my eyes. She whispers something, a name. “Robb?” She reaches out and puts a hand on my jaw.

Robb snapped awake with a jolt, covered with sweat. “She knew.” He muttered to himself, clutching the locket to his heart. “She knew.”


	75. The Smoking Sea

"Valyria." That word seemed to echo through the air as the captain uttered it. "We're passing Valyria." Robb saw the smoke and remembered what the histories said. "They say the Doom still rules Valyria, that the Fourteen Fires still rage." "Aye, the god of death had a feast that day. The peninsula cracked, the earth itself shattered, the sea boiled and this is what remains." Staring out into the Smoking Sea, Robb couldn't help but dread what lay inside. "Who would want to claim this?" He murmured. "We can go no closer." The captain stepped up to his side. "We take the wide route until we reach the Gulf of Grief. Any closer would mean death... or worse." "Worse?" "Oh yes. Death is a mercy. An end to pain, to suffering, to loss and grief. You know what the red priests say, Westerosi? 'There is only one hell, the one we live in now.' The Faceless Men believe it is a gift. To those who roam Valyria, death is what they pray for, to every god there is. The only one that answers their prayers is the one who would deny them. The Shrouded Lord." "Greyscale." Robb's hand instinctively touched the scab beneath his eye. He had imagined what it would be like to have greyscale, to turn to stone piece by piece. 

"Yes. Those cursed with the sickness, those kissed by the Shrouded Lord, are sent here to die. Even if the Doom was not caused by demons or sorcery, demons roam this land. Mindless, soulless monstrosities, Stone Men." Robb couldn't help but shudder at the thought. "I never liked Stannis Baratheon," He reflected, "he had the emotional capacity of a chamberpot and a bit of an ego, but he loved his daughter. Shireen caught greyscale at an early age. She got it off of a toy gifted to her by a passing tradesman, they say that Stannis pressed the toy to her cheek and that was where it grew. He called in maesters and witches and priests, and each gave him the same advice, send her to Valyria, let her live the rest of her days among those who know her suffering. Stannis refused, he sent them all packing and stayed with his daughter. For that, I respect him. He never gave up hope. Maybe they don't beg for death, maybe they scream for another chance, for someone to have faith in them. They aren't soulless because of the greyscale, they're soulless because that is what they offered for another chance." The captain glanced at him. "Perhaps you're right, Ser Wolf Lord, and perhaps you aren't. I have no quarrel with the dead, I do not speak ill of them."


	76. Balance

"Robert Baratheon's got some balls on him, I'll give him that." Jon stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Do you think it's a good idea?" Jon shrugged. "It's not my place to say." Sam snorted, "I know you, Lord Commander. There's something else to this or Robert wouldn't want you there." Seconds passed, Jon looked at his friend with a somewhat bemused expression. As if coming out of a trance, he snapped his fingers and grabbed a jug of wine. "Sit down, Sam."

"So, Ned Stark..." "Is not my father." "And Lyanna ran away with Rhaegar?" "Yes." Sam sat back and sipped his wine. "Robert wants you to be there to sweeten the deal, with the backing of Ned Stark as a witness. I must say it's very Lannister of him." Jon gave a small chuckle, "Don't let Robert hear you say that... I'm sorry." Sam looked slightly alarmed, "What is there to be sorry about?" "I didn't tell you sooner. You're my best friend." "Jon, if I were told that my father was not actually my father and that my parents have been dead for more than twenty years while my closest relations are exiles, Targaryens for that matter, I'd keep it to myself until I could work out what way was up." He clapped a hand on Jon's shoulder. "Nobody would blame you. I thought you might make a bit of a fuss over who he sent to meet Danaerys."

Jon shrugged. "It's probably the best choice. Robb is loved by most, respected by everyone else. He's the Warden of the North and the son of the King's Hand, his wife is the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in Westeros. He's expendable to a degree, a good negotiator and he knows how to take of himself. Plus the added bonus that if something did happen to him, half the realm would be up in arms. He's the only one who ticks all of the right boxes and who Robert can trust." "Expendable?! He's the Warden of the North!" "Exactly. He's powerful enough to be considered worthy of an audience with a queen but not so much that the realm would crumble without him. Look at the alternatives, Sam. The Martells fought for House Targaryen during Robert's Rebellion, the Tyrells are too ambitious to trust with something like this, Renly Baratheon is as colorful and flashy as those cloaks he makes his personal guard wear, Theon Greyjoy is more likely to spend his time whoring, Robin Arryn can barely walk properly, Danaerys would burn any Lannister she could get her hands on, Ned Stark is practically Robert's crutch at this point. It's simple process of elimination." 

"Aemon told me about a prophecy once, the Prince of Ice and Fire, the Prince that was Promised. Have you considered the possibility it might be you?" Jon turned sharply, "What?!" "Oh, come on, Jon! You are the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen, Ice and Fire!" "You know I don't believe in prophecies, Sam." "Until recently, nobody believed in White Walkers or dragons either."


	77. Maps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this story seems to be moving quickly but I don't have time to come up with filler so I'm just writing what I have planned and that's it so if the pace is too much then I apologize.

Useless. Robb tossed the documents onto the table. "How?" There were no maps of Meereen in his pack. How could the libraries of King's Landing and Oldtown not have any maps of Meereen? I can write all the letters in the world about beautiful the sunset is but I think Margaery would prefer me to return with my head intact. Robb stared at the Pyramid on the horizon and cursed himself for not remembering to check that he had the necessary resources. The thrice-damned heat had adled him, he slumped into his chair and wiped the sweat off his brow. I need someone who knows the city. 

Easier said than done. The only people he knew for certain were in the city were Danaerys Targaryen and Jorah Mormont, neither of whom would be forthcomng. Robb's mind wandered, as it often did, to Margaery and his children. He'd tried to look through Grey Wind again but the link was so weak that he could barely reach him. Smiling, he opened the locket and gazed at the image of her. It was painful to be separated from his family, his home. But then, he was lucky. He would go home, others weren't so lucky. 

"Exiles..." Robb muttered as he followed the rain of thought. Aside from Mormont, only one exile sprang to mind, one who'd been forced to flee the Whitehills. "Asher Forrester." Robb thought back to the innkeep at Braavos, Asher was a dangerous swordsman who fought with a ferocity that Robb had secretly found terrifying. Perfect sellsword material. All of the major comapnies had taken sides in the standoff. The Second Sons fought alongside Danaerys, the Golden Company allied with Yunkai. The Lost Legion, the Windblown, the Stormcrows. One big inferno waiting for a spark. Paradise for men like Asher Forrester. Plus there were fighting pits in Meereen. The ship docked the next day, Robb bid farewell to the captain and stepped onto the shore of the Skahazadhan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I'd like to ask for some prompts. I'm not saying I will definitely do them but I am open to making a few drabbles. Preferably Robbaery but I can branch out a bit.


	78. Veteran of a hundred battles

Trying to find Asher with the Golden Company had been a waste of time. Robb wiped his forehead and sat on the ground, getting his bearings straight. The Meereenese market was suprisingly well organized considering the transitions and violence plaguing the city since Danaery Targaryen took over, a gargantuan grid comprised of thousands of tents. I really should get some things for Margaery and the children. He'd found an inn not far from the Great Pyramid with a decent view of the streets and found a vendor selling maps of the city. The outskirts of the city, however, reminded him of King's Landing. It reeked of excrement and rotting flesh. Flies were everywhere, darting around corpses lining the walls with sheets over them. Some of the people muttered about the "pale mare" while looking at the bloody, pus-stained sheets.

Since Asher wasn't outside the city, Robb guessed that he was in one of two places, with the Second Sons who resided in the pyramid or the pit fighters living in their former masters' homes. Pit fighting was more Asher's style, brutal, kill or be killed. It didn't take long to find them, blood ran from the gutters and as Robb approached it, a man crashed through a window on the first floor and fell to the ground with a thud. "This is the place, alright." Robb muttered. He climbed the steps and entered the building. A flash of silver caught the light and he ducked to avoid the knife that had been thrown at the the door. There were several pools of blood and vomit on the floor, Robb stepped around them and followed the shouts and cheers to the veranda. Before he could climb the steps, a huge man holding a massive club lumbered into his way. "Where do you think you're going?"

Robb ignored him and stepped around him. The man held an arm out to block him. "I asked you a question, cripple." Robb was already drawing his sword and the pit fighter screamed as his fingers fell to the floor. With his other hand, Robb swung his cane into his jaw. Robb climbed the rest of the steps to see a crowd gathered around a miniature fighting pit. There was a gong by the door, Robb banged it and silence fell. "Asher Forrester." He called. On the other end of the pit stood a makeshift throne, on it sat a small woman with a shaved head and dark skin. "Who are you, cripple?" A rumble of laughter coursed through the pit. "You insult yourselves. Your doorman just got incapacitated by a cripple." "What?!" Someone in the crowd cursed. The woman stood, "Who are you?" Robb approached the pit. "I'm looking for Asher Forrester. I need to speak to him. If he's not here, I'll be on my way." 

"What the fuck is going on here?" A young man with blonde hair and a matching beard pushed his way through the crowd, brandishing a sword. He froze when he saw Robb. "Stark?" Robb nodded, "Hello, Asher." Asher swallowed, looking unsure. "Has something happened? Is my family-?" "They're fine, Asher. I need your help." A moment passed, Asher turned to the bald woman. "Amaya, he's a friend." Amaya tilted her head to the side, not speaking for a moment. "Who is he? Why should we listen to him, why not kill him?" Robb pointed at the door, "Your friend tried that, it didn't end well." The crowd started groaning and muttering when they saw who it was. "The Beast." Amaya stood. "Answer me, westerosi. Who are you?" Asher held a hand up before Robb could speak. "This is one of the greatest warriors in Westeros. He's the mind behind Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark, he lead his men to Casterly Rock and took it in a month. I give you Robb Stark, the Young Wolf!" Robb took the hint and stayed silent. Amaya looked between them. "You Westerosi and your names..." She shook her head in bemusement, "Get out of my sight!" Asher nodded and gestured to someone in the crowd. "Beskha."

The three returned to Robb's lodgings. "So what do you need?" Asher slumped into a chair. "I need to meet Danaerys Targaryen, I thought you'd make a good ally." The woman called Beshka spat at the name. "That bitch isn't worth the damn time." Robb raised an eyebrow, "How so?" "She went back on a deal we had. We helped take Meereen in exchange for protection against some old friends we met on the way. We cleared the way for the Unsullied to get in. She refused to honour the agreement because we came across a master and we had to kill him. It was that or go back. Except Danaerys didn't see it that way. She said that justice belonged to the people of Meereen and that we broke our word when she owed us for when her fucking dragon attacked us!" Asher took a deep breath and a deeper gulp of wine. "And now we're stuck." He refilled his cup. "What's been happening while I was away? At Ironrath, I mean." Robb shrugged, "Well, Talia married Gared Tuttle..." Asher choked on his wine, "Mira returned to Ironrath when my wife came north. Margaery was in tears when she left." "Wait, you married..." "Margaery Tyrell, aye. Listen, Asher. There's something else." Robb gestured at his face. "The Boltons rebelled a few years ago, Highpoint was among the castles that struck their banners." Asher's jaw fell open. "Ludd Whitehill is dead. Gryff went to the Wall. Gwyn Whitehill holds the castle in my name." "Gwyn..." Asher's eyes were wet. "If you help me sort out Danaerys Targaryen, I can bring you back. The Whitehills don't exist anymore." The room was filled with Asher's shaky breaths. "I can go home? I can be with her again? I can see my parents?" "Aye." Asher grinned, not even trying to hide the tears rolling down his cheeks.


	79. I do not have a gentle heart

The beginnings of a migraine were taking root, her face hurt from sweet and toothy smiles, her arse was already raw and her left leg was almost numb. "Ser Jorah," Danaerys Targaryen muttered. Her bear turned to her from his place at her side. "Yes, khaleesi?" "I believe I owe you an apology. I said one needed cheeks of iron to sit this throne. One would need cheeks of steel." She jested lightly, flashing her first smile for hours. "Perhaps, my queen, though I would say that your cheeks are of Valyrian steel." Daario Naharis grinned at her from her left. Danaerys suppressed a giggle and donned the mask she wore as Queen of Meereen, beautiful, proud, strong, ruthless and resolute as the day's supplicants filtered through the great doors after she had adjourned for lunch with her advisors. She scanned the faces among the crowd, judging their feelings and intentions. A good queen listens to all of her people, not just the ones who flattered her in hopes of gaining power.

Danaerys noticed Ser Jorah tense and put a hand on his arm. "Is something wrong?" Jorah didn't respond immediately. "Third column on the left, there's a man with a cane." Danaerys glanced over and sure enough, there was a red haired man with a longsword at his belt, sitting on the steps with his hands clasped around a cane. "I see him. Do you know him?" Jorah shook his head, "I don't know, khaleesi. But he looks like Catelyn Stark." Danaerys frowned, "The Usurper's dog's wife? Wasn't she a Tully?" "Aye, khaleesi. The Tullys are famous for their red hair and blue eyes. He could be a Tully bastard fighting for one of the sellsword companies." "No." Daario leaned in, "Look, he's a cripple. No sellsword company would let a cripple join them. He doesn't look like a bastard either, I've known many in my time, you remember Mero, this is different. His clothes are dirty, that means he got here recently, he's definitely using a Westerosi longsword and he looks highborn. Any Tullys fit that description?" "You believe he was sent by the Usurper?" "That is a possibility we can't ignore, my queen." Danaerys nodded and glanced back at the man. He was looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite make out. Her time in Meereen allowed her to see past a man's face to see his feelings. Sometimes they looked at her with revulsion, other times with greed and most with lust. She saw nothing in him but a curiosity and an anger in his eyes, which was so piercing they made her shudder internally. "Find out about him. I want to know his purpose here." Daario bowed, "It would be my pleasure, your grace."

Robb stared at the locket on the table, reflecting on seeing Danaerys Targaryen for the first time. She seemed just yet firm and kind on the surface but there was a fire to her that reminded him of his sister, and Margaery most of all. She woud like Danaerys Targaryen. Robb gulped his ale down and chewed on some meat that tasted suspiciously like a dog that Grey Wind had bitten once while he was inside of him. The door opened and three sellswords walked in, everyone else in the tavern averted their eyes as they approached the owner. Robb couldn't hear what they said but the owner pointed a shaky finger at the stairs leading to the rooms. Robb waited for a few seconds after they went up and followed them. Sure enough, the door to his room was open and the three men were rummaging through his belongings, pocketing letters and scrolls. Robb drew his sword.

Danaerys dipped her toes in the cool water in her private courtyard. Only her closest advisors were permitted entrance. "He cut off their hands!" Daario stormed through the entrance, "He cut off their fucking hands!" Danaerys snapped around, "You will watch your tone around me, Daario." That stopped him in his tracks. "My deepest apologies, my queen. I merely feel for my men." Danaerys sighed and stood to her full height, which still didn't reach his shoulders. "When I asked you to find out who he is, I meant for you to make inquiries, be subtle. I didn't order you to steal from him!" Danaerys dipped her hand in the pool and brought it to her forehead. "What did they find?" Jorah walked into the courtyard, frowning. "You asked for me, your grace?" Danaerys nodded and gestured for them to sit with her. "Daario, what did you find out?" The handsome sellsword produced a small piece of parchment and passed it to her. "He's been writing letters to Westeros." Danaerys unrolled the small scroll, 

_Dearest Margaery,_

_I'm sorry that I couldn't write sooner, the voyage was longer than I anticipated as we had to take a wide route to bypass Valyria. You know I don't take much stock in stories but that place has as black reputation as reputations go. That's beside the point though, I'm in Meereen and I'm safe. Along the way I found Asher Forrester, I'm sure Mira would be overjoyed if you could bring her south to meet him on our return. Danaerys Targaryen certainly lives up to her reputation, she is quite a beauty though obviously not so much as yourself, my rose. I think you will like her if she agrees to come with me. She reminds me much of Arya in some ways and of you in others. I mean to make myself known soon enough, if only to be with you sooner. Give my love to the boys and Cat, and to Grey Wind. Please be safe._

_Forever yours, Robb._

 

Danaerys glanced at Jorah and saw him frown. "Ser Jorah?" He didn't respond for a moment, "The name. Margaery. This letter is adressed to my niece. Margaery Tyrell." Danaerys' head spun, the Tyrells were among those who were loyal to her father during the Usurper's rebellion. They only bent the knee once King's Landing fell and Eddard Stark came to relieve the siege of Storm's End. If this man was reporting to them... "There's more." Daario produced a small lump of wax. Before Danaerys could examine it, a voice from behind them made them start. 

"You know, if you wanted to know who I was you could have asked me." Ser Jorah and Daario leapt to their feet and drew their swords. "How did you get in here? These are my private quarters!" Danaerys was incensed that this man had the gall to intrude on her. The man shrugged, "I have my ways." He scoffed, "Unsullied, the greatest eunuch slave soldiers the world has ever known, and piss poor Kingsguard." He stepped forward, Danaerys noticed how much he was leaning on the cane. He was handsome, his eyes seemed warm and kind but behind the deep blue there was a cold look to him as well. His hair was curly and red, his untamed beard matching the ferocity in his stance. His face was marred by an angry, jagged red line that ran down by his eye, the flesh on his cheek torn and ripped, a second scar, arrow straight but clearly deep, lay on his cheekbone. "And do not presume to scold me on the meaning of privacy, my lady." He grabbed the letter from her hands and folded it away. "You will address her as queen, Westerosi!" Daario brandished his arakh wildly. He was met with a cold stare. "Why should I? She is not my queen." Danaerys was enraged by the blatant disrespect and brought her arms down on the blades, knocking them to the floor. "Who do you think you are? Why are you here? Why are you writing to Margaery Tyrell?" The man tilted his head at the last question. "Stark." Ser Jorah stepped forward, "What?!" The man smiled, "This letter is addressed to Lady Margaery Stark of Winterfell, my wife." Jorah picked up his sword and charged. "Stark!" Stark drew his sword and parried the blow, smackng the knight around the head with his cane. Danaerys watched as her bear fell to the floor, unconcious, as Stark collapsed without his cane to lean on. She put an arm up to stop Daario. "Robb Stark? The Young Wolf?" Robb Stark nodded. "Aye. I write to my wife because she would kill me in my sleep if I did not, and I'm here to help you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bloody hell. It's been a long time but we finally got to Dany. Yay!


	80. To go forwards, I must go back

Robb pushed himself to his feet as a group of Unsullied burst in. He was instantly surrounded by a spears aimed at his throat. "Kill me and Westeros goes to war." He warned. Danaerys raised an eyebrow, "You say you're here to help me?" Robb drew his gaze from the spearhead pointed at his nose. "I've been sent by Robert Baratheon." "To kill the queen." Jorah Mormont held his sword to Robb's throat. "He's an assassin, khaleesi. You know that Robert wants you dead." Robb gave him a scathing glare, "If I were an assassin, I would have killed you without announcing myself. Besides, I'm a cripple. Cripples make poor assassins." Danaerys looked between them, "Stand down." The command seemed to hang in the air. "Khaleesi..." "Stand down." The Unsullied put up their spears and Mormont, begrudgingly, lowered his sword.

Stark nodded his thanks and reached inside his tunic. "I've been told to give this to you." He produced a scroll and held it out. Dany took one, examining the seals. The crowned stag of House Baratheon, the direwolf of House Stark and the seal of the Hand of the King. "Leave us." The Unsullied filed out until the three of them remained. She broke the seals. "This is a trap, khaleesi." Jorah read the letter she was holding. "No." Stark stepped forward. "Robert swore before the High Septon in King's Landing with the Small Council as witness, he wishes to meet you." "In Pentos." To go forwards, I must go back. "What is the purpose of this meeting?" "To determine whether or not House Targaryen should be returned to the realm. Westeros has seen enough war for our generation. Robert wants to leave Westeros as stable as possible for his son to take over, he decided that the Targaryens deserve one last chance. You're nothing like your father or brother, you could rule well at Dragonstone." 

Danaerys leapt up from where she sat. "You would have me surrender to the man who killed my brother, stole my father's throne and drove my brother insane?! I would not be surprised if the only delegate you would send is Jaime Lannister!" "Jaime Lannister is dead." Danaerys stopped in her tracks, "What did you say?" Stark shrugged, "The Kingslayer has been dead for years now, as have Tywin Lannister and Gregor Clegane. You'll be meeting with myself, Robert, my father, Ser Barristan Selmy, Tyrion Lannister, my wife, Margaery Stark... And the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch." Stark kept his eyes on Ser Jorah as he responded. Jorah stiffened at the mention of his father's title. "Not the Small Council?" That made Stark smirk, "Robert doesn't trust the Small Council. The people he has chosen are his closest allies who give him honest advice, we will decide what to do about you when the time comes. In the mean time, I am to serve you as an advisor, if you would have me, and to escort you to Essos. I will observe you and your governance and I will advise Robert of my opinion of you as a ruler."

Danaerys chewed her lip as she turned away. "Why should I meet with a usurper? Why waste my time haggling like a fishwife? I could take what is mine with Fire and Blood. You come to me to sue for peace, Robert Baratheon must know I am coming for him." Stark shook his head, "If it comes to war, we will fight. But you would endanger the people who you claim are praying for your return. Robert Baratheon won over the people with forgiveness and kindness, you would rule through fear and suspicion. I can tell you now, Danaerys, there will be no second Conquest." "You forget that I have dragons." Stark snorted, "And where are these dragons, surely such a valuable asset should be prostrated as warning to your enemies? Don't make me laugh, your dragons are feral, untamed. They would just as likely burn an Unsullied as a knight. You've locked them up because you don't know how to control them. There's someone who might be able to help you." Danaerys tilted her head, skeptical. "What do you know of your brother's children?"


	81. Olive branches

"Rhaegar had two children, Rhaenys and Aegon. They both died when Tywin Lannister took King's Landing for the Baratheons." Robb nodded. "Aye, Gregor Clegane and Armory Lorch killed them, while their mother was raped and killed. Of couurse, Rhaegar was dead by this point as well. Had it been Robert who fell at the Trident, who knows what might have happened. But what made the North rebel in the first place?" Danaerys thought for a moment. "Brandon and Rickard Stark." Robb nodded. "Yes. And no. The reason they went to the capital was because Rhaegar stole my aunt, Lyanna Stark, after the Tourney of Harrenhal. Everyone assumed she'd been taken against her will by the mad dragon prince, except she wasn't. They went to Dorne with Gerold Hightower, Arthur Dayne and Oswell Whent. It was only after the Battle of the Bells that Rhaegar returned to take control of the Targaryen forces and ride against Robert." Danaerys sighed, "And then the Trident." "And then the Trident. Once the war was over and your father was dead, my father rode south, relieved Storm's End from the Tyrells, took his most trusted friends and went after Lyanna. It was in the Red Mountains that they found the last Kingsguard. At the end of it all, only my father and Howland Reed were left standing. By the time my father reached Lyanna, she was dying. She died in a bed of blood, bearing Rhaegar a son. Your brother had a bastard son." 

Danaerys sat heavily, trying to process everything at once. "So I am no longer the last dragon." Robb smiled, "You never were." Danaerys smiled back, "That is... refreshing to know. Maybe my line has a chance after all." Robb tilted his head slightly but didn't pursue the issue. "So where is my nephew? I assume your father kept him close to protect him from the Lannisters." Now comes the tricky part. "Aye, he's in the North. He'll come to Pentos with my wife." Danaerys nodded. "I look forward to meeting him." She stood, "That leaves me with the issue of what to do with you. You say you're here to advise me, very well. You can join my council meetings, just know that you have no authority here. This is not Westeros, as I'm sure you're aware." Robb bowed, "I wouldn't have it any other way. Lead on, my lady."

Danaerys' Small Council entered the chamber to find Robb and Danaerys already sat down. "This is a council meeting." Daario Naharis snarled. "My queen, allow me to remove him from the chamber, and the mortal world." He drew a knife. Danaerys held up her hand. "That will not be necessary, Daario. Lord Stark is here at my invitation. Sit down, all of you." Ser Jorah stepped up to her. "Khaleesi..." Danaerys cut him off. "Sit. Down." The remaining councillors exchanged glances and sat. "Thank you. I believe introductions are in order. My lords, this is Robb Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Lord Stark, may I introduce Grey Worm, commander of the Unsullied; Mossador, representative of the freed people of Meereen; Daario Naharis, captain of the Second Sons; Hizdahr Zo Loraq, representative of the great houses of Meereen; Missandei, my personal scribe and translator; and you know Ser Jorah Mormont, Lord Commander of the Queensguard and Hand of the Queen." Each councillor nodded as their name was said.

"Lord Stark is here to aid in the transition period before I leave to negotiate with the lords of Westeros. He will sit on this council and give his opinion and advice. Are there any objections?" Nobody spoke. "Excellent. Hizdahr, how are talks with the Wise Masters going?" "They are as beligerent as ever, my queen. I fear that unless we deal with them soon, an attack may very well be imminent." "And the Harpy?" "We are looking, my queen. The Sons of the Harpy are all but suppressed, Yunkai is the main threat." Robb leaned forward, "Tell me more about The Sons of the Harpy." Missandei explained the ongoing crisis to him. "And this 'Harpy' is their leader? How do we know that he exists?" Silence fell. Robb sighed. "The way I see it, the way the Masters see it, you are Aegon the Conqueror. A foreign ruler who has shown a visciousness and a resolve that scared the people into submission. You, in their eyes, are becoming Maegor the Cruel. You refuse to accept their beliefs, you punish those who defy you, you have killed men to send a message. Is it any wonder they're revolting against you? The Sparrows never had a definitive leader, all they had was a figurehead and a cause. You cannot kill the Harpy because he does not exist. You are becoming Maegor the Cruel, you must become Jahaerys the Conciliator. Speak to the Masters, negotiate." Danaerys bristled. "You think I haven't tried? They have spat on every chance I gave them!" Robb rubbed his eyes. 

"You still don't understand. The Ghiscari Empire has traded in blood and flesh for tens of thousands of years. Valyria followed in it's footsteps. Slaver's Bay lives and breathes tradition, you would have them disown that tradition. Is it so unthinkable that they would not accept this? I'm not saying you should allow slavery to continue unchecked, but you cannot rule through force alone. Robert Baratheon understood this, that is why he was able to hold Westeros. Learn from your father's mistakes and give the Masters time."


	82. Mundane

Arya sighed as Gendry placed a hand on her stomach and lay on her side in bed. His fingers moved over her naked body as she kissed him gently. "What's the matter?" She asked. "Nothing." He replied just a bit too quickly. Arya raised her eyebrows and gave him a stern look. "Gendry..." Gendry didn't speak for a moment, just looking into her eyes. He kissed her again, his other hand running over her shoulder. "I don't know. I feel confused... Not about us, but..." Arya cupped his cheek. "Is it about Storm's End?" Gendry turned his head to her touch. "Yes. I don't want to be king but I don't want to take anything from Shireen." Arya nodded. "You know how I feel about the throne but I don't want you giving up everything just for me." She thought for a second. "Why not do what Aegon did with Rhaenys and Visenya?" Gendry scoffed. "If you're suggesting I marry Shireen-" She smacked his chest. "No! I meant why not have her rule Storm's End alongside us? You would be Lord Paramount, with Shireen and I at your side, helping you rule. She has her own ladyship at Starfall anyway, she might not even want to leave Edric." Gendry nodded. "There is that. The Daynes don't really care about the Stormlands, I doubt they'll object either way." "That's that, then. We can write to Shireen and Renly to see if they agree."


	83. A sword without a handle

"It doesn't make any sense." Jon unsheathed Longclaw and stuck it into the ice, sitting on the chair looking into the forest. "What doesn't?" Sam sat in the seat beside him. "Think about it, Sam. The White Walkers have stopped. It's been years since Hardhome, most of the wildlings are dead or stranded and we're underequiped, outnumbered and every other disadvantage you can think of. They're unopposed in the North, why not advance?" They mulled it over for a few minutes. Eventually, Sam opened his mouth. "Maybe they're toying with us, in which case we're fucked either way. Or... They're waiting for easy pickings. The wildlings opposed them long before they even reached Thenn, they're gone. The attacks started around the time of the Lannister Rebellion, when..." It clicked. 

"When every fighting man went south with Ned Stark. The Tullys, the Arryns, the Greyjoys, everyone called their banners, leaving their homes defenceless, which wasn't a concern at the time because that mess was just one great big siege. They start to advance when they think we are distracted." Jon frowned. "But why wait when the greatest wars in Westerosi history happened?" Sam beamed, "Because of the dragons, Jon! The Targaryens brought dragons to Westeros three hundred years ago! Aegon's Conquest, the Dance of the Dragons, dragons still existed in Westeros back then. And before the Conquest, before Westeros became the Seven Kingdoms, there was Valyria." Jon looked at his sword. "And the Valyrians had Valyrian Steel. The White Walkers march when there is minimum threat. No dragons, no Valyrian Steel, no united force. But then why not attack during Robert's Rebellion?" Sam shrugged, "How do we know they didn't? That war lasted just over a year. They move slowly, playfully. They've waited for eight thousand years, what's another decade to them?" Jon sat forward. "They might not be as strong as they've led us to believe. Mance Rayder's wife once told me that sorcery is a sword without a handle, just as dangerous to yourself as it is to your enemies. They know that something's changing but they're afraid to step forward unless they think they can win. We beat them once, we can beat them again." 

The horn blasted once. "The rangers." Jon sheathed Longclaw and descended to Castle Black. When he and Sam reached the courtyard, it was completely silent. They pushed through the crowd and stopped dead at the front. The horse was deathly still, red icicles hung off its mane and no breath emanated from its nostrils. The rider was headless, a bloody stump stuck from his neck. Sam approached gingerly. "This... This isn't the work of a blade, my lord. His head's been torn off. He was still alive when they did it." Jon stepped forward. "How long has he been dead?" His hand was itching. "The ice has preserved him but I'd say a week, maybe less. I can't tell." Jon gave the corpse one last check and was about to order it burned when it jerked sharply in its seat and faced him.


	84. Punch me in the face

Robb watched through Ghost's eyes as Jon jerked awake, breathing heavily. He blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes. Jon glanced under his desk and saw Ghost staring at him, yet it wasn't quite Ghost. It almost seemed like... "Get out of my wolf, Stark." Jon growled and rolled his own eyes back, pushing Robb from Ghost's mind.

Danaerys walked into the guest chambers to find Robb sat in a chair with his head back. A scar on his stomach stood out on his bare torso, the rest was a patchwork of small scars. She glanced at his leg, jumping as Robb jolted so badly he nearly fell out of his chair, sucking in a deep breath like a newborn infant. He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He muttered something about bastards and cleared his throat. "Good morn, my lady. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Danaerys searched his face for any sign of mockery. "You said that my dragons should be seen by the people. Would you like to visit them?" Robb tilted his head. "Lead the way, my lady."

The Unsullied pushed aside the boulder blocking the entrance to the cave. Hot air rushed out, the draught forcing Robb and Danaerys to step back. They stepped inside gingerly, letting their eyes adjust to the darkness. "How long have they been here?" Danaerys shook her head. "Since Drogon began to go feral. He killed a farmer's little girl, I couldn't risk Viserion and Rhaegal roaming wild as he does." Robb nodded, lighting a torch to partially illuminate the chamber. The walls looked strikingly similar to... "Harrenhal." He murmured, running his hand along the mishapen stone. "They tried to burn their way out." Danaerys smiled sardonically. "Well, they are dragons." She stepped further into the chambers. " _Zaldrizes?_ Viserion? Rhaegal?" A jet of flame erupted at the far end of the chamber, the dragon roared and snapped in their direction. Dandaerys looked like she wanted to run to it's side and embrace it but Robb grabbed her arm and held her back. He unbuckled his swordbelt and laid it on the ground. "Careful, dragonflame gets more violent as they get older." Danaerys tore herself away. "They are my children." "Your children who you chained up to keep your people safe. They're angry, they're scared. They don't care that you're their mother." He limped further into the chamber, slowly approaching the dragon. "Gods, Tyrion Lannister is going to hit the roof." Another jet of flame reflected off the smashed chains attached to the wall. A dragon with green and bronze scales lay on its side. Danaerys gasped. "Rhaegal." Rhaegal let out a sound akin to a yip, stretching its neck to look at Danaerys. Its glowing eyes followed her as she almost ran to it, kneeling by its stomach. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Danaerys sniffled. Robb looked at Rhaegal's legs. "Are those...?" Danaerys gasped. "Eggs. Dragon's eggs." She picked one of them up. 

Robb cursed as Viserion darted out of the shadows, screeching. The white dragon crawled toward Rhaegal, settling between Robb and Danaerys. It watched Robb as he held out a hand, maintaining eye contact. "I'm a friend. I mean you no harm, Viserion." Viserion's eyes darted from Danaerys to the eggs to Robb's hand. Slowly, it moved forward. Robb held its gaze, bowing his head slightly. Viserion stared for a moment, before repeating the gesture. Robb laid his hand on its nose, feeling the hot air radiating from its skin. Danaerys stared at the eggs. "Did they...?" Robb snorted, "Well, if I were stuck alone with nobody except my wife, I reckon we'd fuck at least once." Danaerys laughed. "Dragons can change genders. It would appear that Rhaegal decided to be the mother." "I suppose that makes me a grandmother now." Robb smiled. "Yes, I suppose it does."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, it's terrible and bad and took too long and ladidah. To be honest, I kind of forced myself to write this chapter because I'm about to go on holiday so... I'll try and get another chapter up before then. In other news, if you've followed robbaery tags or my own account, you'll know I've deleted one of my other fanfics. That was intentional, I didn't delete it by accident again or anything. It's gone. I have started a different one but I probably won't update for a while but I have started it, I have a vague idea of what it's going to be and I think it's going to be good.


	85. Letters

Margaery sat on a bench in the courtyard of Winterfell, watching Torrhen and Harlan play with Grey Wind. She watched the direwolf intently, following his movements for anything that reminded her of Robb. She had noticed a few subtle changes in Grey Wind's behaviour, he would sometimes stare at her like she was the only one who existed in the world. That was how Robb looked at her. Margaery loved her husband, more than anything in the world. Yet a part of her was terrified of him, of what he was capable of. Whether or not he knew it, Robb was more than a man. Looking at Grey Wind proved that. Margaery felt like the luckiest person alive because she could see him for everything that he was and yet never have to fear him. That was what love should be.

"Mother?" Margaery snapped out of her thoughts. "Yes, little cub?" Torrhen pulled himself onto the bench and looked up at her. "Are you sad because Father isn't here?" Margaery smiled and ruffled her son's hair. "A little bit sad, yes. It's just that he's never had to be away for so long. I love your father very much and I miss him just as much as you do." She pulled him into her lap. "But I'm also happy. Your father is away because he's doing something very brave, something he didn't want to do because he didn't want to leave us but he's doing it because it is the right thing to do. Your father is one of the kindest people in the world and he cares for everyone, he wants to protect everyone." Torrhen nodded. "Father told me that being a lord is like being a father, except with lots of children. He says the lone wolf dies but the pack survives, because winter is coming and we have to endure together." Margaery felt tears prick her eyes as she kissed her sons forehead. "It looks like we have made a very wise young man. Both you and your brother will be lords one day, with castles and families of your own. You'll be big and strong like your father but you'll never stop being my baby boy." Torrhen stared at her with something approaching revulsion. "I'm not a baby!" Margaery laughed and tickled him. "Really? Are you sure?" Torrhen howled and scrambled away. He jumped up and grinned mischeivously. "Um, Mother." Margaery shrieked as Harlan threw a lump of snow as her. "Harlan Stark!" The boys sat on the ground, giggling. Margaery huffed. "Were you distracting me, young man?" Her tone only made them laugh harder and she struggled to keep a straight face herself. 

"Lady Stark?" Margaery turned away from her sons to see Maester Luwin smiling down at the three of them. "A message from Slaver's Bay." Margaery had to stop herself from snatching it from him. She opened it and read the contents. By the time she'd finished, she was beaming. "Robb writes that preparations have begun for Danaerys Targaryen to come to Pentos. By now they should have left Slaver's Bay. We can start getting ready to go to King's Landing." The boys cheered and hugged each other. Margaery smiled at them. "Go to your chambers and start thinking about what to take." Luwin watched them run back to the keep, chattering all the while. "They are very much like their father and Jon were as boys, always playing pranks on their parents. I remember Lady Catelyn was close to despair. Eventually Lord Eddard stopped trying to admonish them and just went along with it. Of course, Arya took things to a whole new level." Margaery chuckled sadly. "That she did. I know it seems ungrateful but... A part of me wishes I could give Catelyn a sister, someone to braid her hair, to help her dress, to chatter to about handsome boys and gossip. I always wanted a sister when I was a girl and I suppose I don't want Cat to be left wanting." Luwin patted her shoulder. "You and Robb are a young, healthy, loving couple. There is no reason why you cannot have another daughter. Catelyn's birth was a difficult one but the circumstances made it so, it was neither your fault nor Robb's. If it is what you want, I will do whatever I can to support you in that course of action." Margaery sighed. "You don't think he would be angry if I stopped drinking moon tea?" "I think he will talk to you and he will listen to what you have to say and I think he will accept your decision either way." 

Margaery nodded and looked at the letter again. "Send ravens to Castle Black, Ironrath and Highpoint. Summon Lord Commander Snow, Mira Forrester and Gwyn Whitehill to Winterfell. I want to be on the way to King's Landing within the fortnight."


	86. Journey

"I thought I'd find you down here." Jon glanced at Margaery, making no move to greet her from Lyanna Stark's grave. "Robb told me you left without visiting when you were here last." She continued towards him, lighting torches as she walked. Jon nodded, flinching slightly as Margaery slipped her arm around his. "Here." She held out a vibrant blue winter rose, freshly picked from the gardens. "Your father said they were her favorites." Jon finally turned to her, his grey Stark eyes boring into her brown ones. "Lord Stark--" Margaery shook her head. "Ned Stark doesn't give a damn about Rhaegar and gods know Robb and I don't either. You are Robb's brother just as much as Bran or Rickon. You are a Stark, Jon. Nothing will ever change that, your name does not have any bearing on who you are. Arya is a Baratheon now, but she hasn't changed at all in all the time I've known her. Yes, I am a very different person from who I was six years ago, but that is because of the love I hold for Robb, not because I shed my cloak before a heart tree and took a new name."

Jon swallowed and nodded, looking slightly surprised at her cursing. "I know. I've been a complete arse to you and Robb. It's not your fault and it wasn't Lady Catelyn's fault either." He looked at the likeness to Catelyn carved into stone next to Lyanna before taking the rose and placing it between the two statues. He bowed his head in silent prayer for a moment. Margaery closed her eyes and sent the gods a prayer of her own. For Robb, for Lady Catelyn, for Lyanna. She tugged his arm lightly. "Come. You're joining me and the children for supper, they're quite excited to meet their uncle." Jon paled slightly at that.

Margaery opened the door to the hall where Torrhen and Harlan were sat. "Boys, this is Jon Snow. He's your father's brother." Torrhen frowned. "So why isn't he a Stark? Uncle Bran is a Stark and he's Father's brother too." Margaery sat next to him. "You'll understand when you're older, little cub." Harlan sat forward. "Are you a lord like Father? Do you have a castle?" Jon shook his head. "Not quite. I'm the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, I'm in charge of the Wall." "Maester Luwin says it's cold at the Wall." Jon smiled. "Yes, very cold. Even for the North." A servant stuck his head through the door. "Lady Stark, the banners of House Forrester and House Whitehill have been spotted within an hour of Winterfell." Margaery nodded. "Have Lady Mira and Lady Gwyn brought up to my husband's solar as soon as they arrive."

"Did Robb say why he wanted them to come with us?" Margaery settled into Robb's chair, watching Jon pace. "Asher Forrester is with him. I assume you recall Lady Whitehill's... adventures with Asher, hm? I thought they might be pleased to see each other. Besides, I would never turn down the chance to see Mira again. She is by far the most capable handmaiden I've ever had." As if on cue, the door opened and Mira stepped inside. Margaery embraced her friend, kissing her lightly on the cheek. "It's so good to see you again, Mira." Mira blushed slightly. "It's good to see you too, my lady." She and Jon greeted each other warmly and Gwyn Whitehill swept in and curtseyed. "Lady Stark, Lord Commander." She murmured, staring at her toes. "Lady Whitehill, thank you for being here on such short notice. I was wondering if you wished to accompany me to Pentos, I could always use another hand on deck." Gwyn looked somewhat bewildered. "You honour me, my lady, but may I ask why? You have many in your household who would no doubt be a better companion to you and your children." Margaery spread her palms. "I suppose you're right. Except it might be in your interest as well. My husband sent me a letter from Meereen. He writes that he has met with Danaerys Targaryen and that along the way, he encountered Asher Forrester." Gwyn paled slightly. "Asher... Is he coming home?" "Yes, and I have reason to believe that you still have feelings for him?" Gwyn's bottom lip trembled slightly. Margaery grinned. "I will take that as a yes, Lady Whitehill. Come, we have much to discuss."


	87. Stories

"So I pick up the spear, turn round, and this fucker's standing right there. I don't think, I don't breath, I don't sweat. I just jab the damn thing so far through his eye, the next cunt who's after my head gets a mouthful of bloody steel for his damn trouble!" Asher mimed thrusting the spear from where he stood on top of the table. Robb glanced at Danaerys, who looked slightly taken aback by Asher's choice of vocabulary. She cleared her throat. "And what of you, Lord Stark? I wouldn't refuse to hear how you won the war in the West." Robb snorted. "All I did was lure Jaime Lannister into a trap. Any competent commander could have done it." "The Riverlanders tried and failed. Unless they are all slow of wit you clearly had some insight into military matters beyond most of your compatriots." Asher plonked himself down next to Robb. "Come on, Stark. Spill the beans." Robb shot him a glare. "Alright." 

He sighed. "The Kingslayer was overconfident, simple as that. To be that good with a sword, of course he would be. He had already routed several smaller hosts belonging to some of the individual Riverlords. That coupled with the fact that Tywin thought he knew what moves we'd make and the fact that I was, in their eyes, an untested green boy with no stomach for war, made for what they thought would be easy pickings and a crushing blow. With me captured, the North would surrender and Robert would lose his greatest ally. They weren't expecting me to split my force at the Green Fork but they put that down to the Blackfish and my father. Lannister's ego wouldn't allow a mere boy to plunder so close to Casterly Rock, it was easy enough to set a trap. Before the full might of the North, East and Stormlands fell on Lannisport, Tywin and Jaime opened the gate and attacked my host. They never realised what had happened until it was too late." Danerys frowned. "How did they know you were in the host?" "I had the troops display Stark banners very prominently, plus I let some scouts get close to us, close enough to see me walking the camps." Asher smiled. "Rookie mistake. All the better for Lannister." Robb nodded. "Aye. All the better."


	88. Soon

"Aunty Arya!" The twins sprang out of the carriage and bolted toward Arya's outstretched arms. "Hello, big cubs." She embraced the laughing boys and tried to stand up. "Seven hells, Margaery! They're heavier than Bran was when he was ten! What have you been feeding them?" Margaery laughed and bounced Catelyn in her arms. "I've been feeding them whatever the cooks make for us. They're probably that heavy because Robb and I had a very... enthusiastic bedding." Arya's face bacame a mask of absolute horror, leaving Gendry to snort as quietly as he could and pick both boys up, pretending to struggle. "Come on, Uncle! You can do it!" With an exaggerated grunt, Gendry hefted the two onto his shoulders. "Yay!" Harlan cried out before looking around. "Where's Grandfather Ned?" "He's with the king, little cub. They should--" 

"There she is!" Robert boomed as he and Ned walked out. "Family reunion! Let's see my nephews!" Ned cleared his throat. "They aren't really your nephews, Robert. They're your son's nephews." He stepped forward to kiss Margaery's cheek. "How have you been? Rickon hasn't accidently destroyed Barrowton, I hope." Margaery laughed and passed Cat over to him. "Not as far as I know. Ser Rodrik and Maester Luwin are more than capable but I had Bran come to Winterfell to act as Lord while we're gone." Ned nodded. "There must always be a Stark at Winterfell, as Catelyn used to say." He looked down at the girl in his arms. "I hope your daughter will be as wise as she was." Margaery smiled sadly. "She will be. She will have two of the greatest lords in the history of Westeros to help her. And I will always be there for her, no matter what." 

"The preparations are finished, we leave for Pentos on the morrow." Ned declared during supper. Margaery felt her heart soar. Soon, my wolf. She looked across the table to see Arya fussing over the boys. Gendry was watching her too, looking a little wistful and Margaery decided to put her foot down.

"Arya, could you stay?" The young woman was just about to walk out of the hall. Margaery patted the seat next to her. "Come." Arya looked a tad nervous as she did so. "What is it?" Margaery couldn't be bothered to try be too gentle. "Have you bled?" Arya shrank into her chair and nodded. "Alright, and do you or Gendry any problems down there? Does he finish... In you?" Another nod. "Alright, Arya. Listen to me. I know that you hate being ladylike and you've always had an issue with children, but you are an adult now. You have a responsibility, not just as a queen or a lady. Gendry is the last of the Baratheon bloodline. If you don't have children, your line will die out. Just as the Reynes and the Tarbecks did." She took Arya's hand. "I see the way you behave around my children and they adore you. I see the way that Gendry watches you with them. Have you considered that even your mind can be changed, or what he wants? I ask because I look at you and I see the selfishness I had in my childhood. I did not want children but I knew my duty, do you know yours? Do you know your mother's words? Because ther were the words that she stood by, even at the end."

Arya stood naked in her room, staring at her reflection and the little cup on the table beside her. She picked it up, opened the window and threw it out. She heard Gendry enter the chamber. As he walked in, Arya knelt on the bed. As soon as he approached the bed, she pulled him down to her. "Let's make a child." She whispered.


	89. Reunion

"Princess!" Illyrio Mopatis half-wobbled down to meet the Targaryen party as they approached his Pentoshi manse. The cheesemonger beamed and held out a jewellery-encrusted hand. "Magister Illyrio, it has been too long." Danaerys returned the smile. "Yes, my queen. Far too long. My, admittedly belated, condolences for the deaths of your brother and husband." Danaerys nodded sadly. "My sun and stars roams the nightlands as is his right as a Khal and I mourn the brother who raised me and protected me, not the madman who died on the Dothraki sea." Illyrio patted her hand. "Those events are unfortunate, and yet perhaps they were meant to be. You are no longer the sweet girl dreaming of home, I see that clearly. Before, you were a remarkable young woman, yet now you are magnificent." "I still dream of home, Magister. In some fashion or another, I may be on the cusp of grasping that dream." Illyrio bowed deeply. "Indeed. And preparations have already been made." 

Robb stepped forward. "Magister." "Ah, Lord Stark. I have heard many stories of your exploits." Robb smiled thinly, "Mostly good, I should hope. Where might I find Robert Baratheon?" Illyrio swept an arm wide. "The King and his entourage have settled in the western wing, while I have prepared chambers in the east wing for the princess and her advisors. The two wings are joined by a courtyard where you may wish to speak outside of the negotiating table. Your wife is currently occupying the chamber adjacent." Robb nodded his thanks and walked down the corridor. 

Ned heard footsteps outside the small hall where he was waiting. A moment later, the door opened to reveal an exhausted looking Robb. "Son." He embraced his eldest. "How was your journey?" Robb shrugged. "Interesting." He hefted his travel bag onto the table. "These are my notes." Ned flicked through the papers. "I assume you aren't in the mood to discuss this." Robb shook his head. "No, though I should advise you that I intend to give Robert a piece of my mind." Ned knew his son well enough to know that he was close to his limit. "I can't blame you." 

Margaery sighed and sat in her chair, trying to concentrate on needlework. She winced as she pricked her finger and put the half-finished cloth to the side. As soon as she had, Grey Wind padded toward the door and barked. Margaery couldn't help but smile as she opened the door and stepped outside and moved to one of the benches in the courtyard. A familiar clacking sound only made her grin more.

Robb walked briskly through the corridors, too preoccupied to examine the lavish craftsmanship of the doors and windows. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Asher and Gwyn embracing in a side corridor. He emerged into the garden and approached the benches. Margaery glanced at him and stood up. "Lord Stark." She curtsied, giving him her most innocent and teasing smile. Robb raised an eyebrow in mock confusion and grinned, recognizing the game almost instantly. "Lady Margaery." He bowed. Margaery visibly stifled a giggle. "How was your journey?" He shrugged. "Uneventful." She stepped forward. "Oh, really? I suppose it was a tad silly to think you might want to stay there and never come back." Robb chuckled, "I could never do that. I have so much to come back for, so many people. I couldn't stay on the other side of the world for any longer than I have already." Margaery kept moving toward him. "Hm, and who in particular did you come back for?" Robb stroked his chin. "Well, I think I might be missed by a few. Robert, Tyrion, my father, Gendry maybe, Mikken will definitely miss my custom in his smithy." Margaery pouted, "Anybody more important?" Robb pretended to think. "I suppose Grey Wind as well, but..." She was now so close, their noses almost touched. "Any particular pretty girls, swooning over the missing Lord of Winterfell?" 

Robb brought a hand up to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, brushing her lower lip with his thumb. "I don't know about swooning but I suppose there is the most beautiful woman in the world." Completely without thinking, Margaery moved her head into the touch, her face warming up. "My lord, you should not tease a lady so." She whispered. "Well, then, perhaps you should know by now that two can play at this game." Margaery's hands immediately cupped his cheeks and pulled him down. Robb's other hand dropped his cane and went to her waist, moving slowly upward. The kiss started slowly, swiftly becoming hotter and more passionate. Margaery gasped as his hand moved over her breast, stroking gently. Both of them pulled away, flushed and panting. Margaery gave a little moan as they stared into each other's eyes before snapping back to reality. "The children--" "Can wait." Robb interrupted softly but firmly. "Just... rest for a bit. With me." Without further hesitation, Margaery settled down on the bench, his arms wrapped around her. "I think you do swoon a little, though." Margaery scoffed. "I do not."


	90. Relics

"You have the look of a man utterly lost, Lord Commander Snow." Tyrion knocked back the strong Dornish red and sighed, patting his chest and sitting back in the wonderfully luxurious chair. "One might say your mind is fighting your heart." Jon turned away from the window. "Or one might say that you should keep your mouth shut." Tyrion chuckled grimly. "Cut out a man's tongue and you don't prove him wrong, you only prove you fear what he might say. Are you afraid of what I might say, Jon Targaryen?" Jon clenched his fist, all the indication that Tyrion needed. "How did you know?" Tyrion snorted. "Our Lord Hand is an appalling liar. Eddard Stark, barely married for six months to a wife already carrying his child, fucking some girl in Gulltown or in the Stormlands? Bullshit and everyone with half a brain knew it." He leaned forward. 

"But still, it could have been another's son, an orphan wandering the sands, except you are no southron child. You and your uncle look very much alike, Margaery pointed out to me. Except Targaryen blood is weak and fickle, that is the price of inbreeding as the Valyrians did. Features that should carry sometimes don't. Stark blood, on the other hand, is strong, very strong. And since the only living female Targaryens fled to Dragonstone, Ned Stark wouldn't have been near either of them. Lyanna Stark, on the other hand..." Jon digested the tirade in silence, only nodding his head slightly. Tyrion took that as a sign to continue. "So I would sumrise that you feel conflicted because you want to know your family, perfectly understandable. But you also recognise the risk. So I must ask you two questions." Jon nodded. "One, do you desire the Iron Throne?" He chuckled. "The things I would rather do than sit on that throne include swimming to Asshai and back. The second question?" Tyrion held out a small box. "This belongs to you, what would you have me do with it?"


End file.
